Thursday, December 31, 2009

HAC Interview, Part Three

Third of four parts:

Also, there is a passably interesting series of comments at the bottom of Part One.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Fool's Paradise

[Found this in the Lone Haranguer file from last summer. I understand he recently got a Visit, so I figure running this one is a good way to cock my snook at our friends in the silk suits. - HAC]

She entered the room and you'd have thought it was Queen Elizabeth the First returning from a successful campaign against the French. The entire senate resounded with thundering applause and a standing ovation for this great head of state. Ole' Liz? No. Mother Teresa? No. The Virgin Mary? No. It was none other than America's First Ho, Michelle Obama Soetero!

Another interesting thing I noticed, that the liberal camera crews had tried hard to cut out of the scene, was the fact that only the rabid liberals were applauding in orgasmic ecstasy. The conservatives and independents remained seated and still, a look of utter disgust plastered on their features. I was amazed, aghast, and thoroughly outraged that these mindless, corrupt bootlicks would give such adoration to such a crass, no class ghetto ho with attitude. The only thing that the worthless bitch merits is an ass kicking from here, all the way back to Africa.

And yet here they were, giving homage to this mouthy piece of crap. The blatant hypocrisy of the Left in this country has become an international embarrassment for all those that still possess a moral compass.

Increasingly I find myself being ashamed of being associated with my own country. America has become the laughing stock of the whole world because we've allowed the inmates to run the asylum.

It actually offends me to even see a picture of any of those buffoons in D.C. because each time I do, it reminds me all over again of just how much danger we're in. The clock is ticking on the time bomb these fools have created out of our sacred homeland, and death is really too good for them. They should all be made to suffer for all the pain and misery they've put so many millions of us and our loved ones through, by pushing their evil agenda forward. If there's one thing this life has taught me, it's that all true justice comes from the end of a gun barrel...or rope, and we're not using either one nearly enough right now.

Mrs. Chimp was only the warm-up for a special night of bootlicking and ass kissing, the likes of which I've seldom seen and don't want to see again. Next came Super Chimp himself, wearing that eternal incongruity, the monkey in a tuxedo, or coon in a suit. The clothes of an advanced, civilized Caucasian on an African bush nigger, attempting to pass himself off as an equal. Will wonders never cease? Once again the thunderous applause as dozens of foaming at the mouth liberal females went into auto-orgasm at the very sight of their hero, Super Chimp, the icon of liberal success...a nigger in the White House, which is a liberal's wet dream.

Competency? Character? Who cares about those? They've got competent whites to take up the slack for him in those departments. All they care about is proving to the traditionalists that we win! It's a regular parade of insanity, a fools' paradise.

After the tearful and semi-spiritual joy of his presence died down, and all adoring liberal eyes were focused on their hero, he cleared his throat and began to speak. He sounded for all the world like one of those con artist coons you get on your phone late at night, trying to wheedle you into buying a case of light bulbs out of some dirty warehouse in Miami. Like all his speeches it was long, windy, and typically negro, which is to say that every other sentence was a brag on himself. Blacks just love to beat their chests. It's in their very nature because they're still very close to their monkey roots. Blacks call themselves "the first men". Well, they've got that bass-ackwards. Actually they're the last apes.

When he wasn't bragging or taking credit for things he didn't do, he was lying his ass off. He did a deft verbal dance, trying to side-step blame for screwing up the economy and sinking us all into trillions in debt to sustain three auto companies that should have been allowed to sink. All three are eaten up with union graft and corruption to the point where the entire system has to be junked.

Pouring billions into that black hole of greed only prolongs the inevitable, because they'll have to collapse again soon. Every last union official and politician involved in the auto industry should have been thrown under the nearest prison and left there. He failed to mention the fact that it was the Jews and their politician henchmen that raped our economy in the first place, and he was careful not to mention the fact that only a small handful of sacrificial kikes have ever been charged, let alone jailed for the biggest heist in human history.

He continued to lie about the health care debacle, insisting it's the best thing since fried chicken and watermelon. The Republicans who sat there tolerating his words, could barely contain their rage. At one point Obama said outright that illegals would not benefit from his health care bill. A Congressman from South Carolina couldn't take it anymore and stood up in the middle of his speech and yelled, "You lie!" But
what the good representative forgets is black politicians in this country can't lie...they make "misstatements". That's the new liberal euphemism for a lie.

And brother, Super Chimp misstated all over the place. Or as one GOP senator put it after the speech, "It was just another long-winded speech about the same bad idea." Obama was on the defensive the entire time, and on the verge of throwing a tantrum right there in front of everybody. I kept expecting him to rip his shirt off and start oooh-ooh-ing as he climbed the chandelier and threw light bulbs at the audience in raw simian rage.

De monkey thought he could run a country. Awww! Poor monkey!

I've heard a lot of politicians speak in my life, but never have I heard so many outright lies spoken in just one speech. Obama's niggerness came out in spades (pun intended). He's stupid, stubborn, vindictive, and abuses his authority beyond anything the White House has ever seen, nor is likely to ever see again. I'd hate to be on the White House staff while that gang of ghetto trash inhabits it. It's got to be hell watching Super Chimp's hos n' bros chimping out in the Lincoln bedroom to the tune of Tupac. History will record his presidency as the experiment that failed. I mean c'mon..a nigger in the White House?

Has America completely lost its mind? I have never met a black I could trust. Ever. And brother, I've known a lot of them unfortunately. And anyone that thinks otherwise is either a complete idiot or so out of touch with reality that they have no business being allowed to vote in the first place.

The entire speech was sickeningly biased, partisan, and pro-Obama to the point I wanted to ralff in my boot. It was so blatant that no American with an IQ above that of a ham sandwich could fail to be nauseated by it. Have you ever had an itch you couldn't reach? One that drove you absolutely bonkers to the point you were whirling in a tight circle and growling, as you tried to grow an extra elbow so you could ssccrrrraaaattch that infernal spot?

Well, Obama did that to my brain. After hearing so many lies at one time, I wanted to jam my entire arm into my brain through an ear canal and scrape out the brain cells retaining the memory of his slick Willie voice. And since I discovered rather quickly and painfully that my arm wasn't going to fit in my ear, I occupied my time thinking up a design for my new "Obamalator."

It's a machine that turns crooked, lying, dangerous black politicians into ground rump (what else?). It's modeled after a gas wood chipper, but has a baiting feature. There's a bundle of kickback cash tied to a reel that slowly pulls itself in as the nigger reaches for it. Once he gets close enough, a sensor goes off and two mechanical arms leap out, grab the monkey and jam him head-first into the maw of the Obamalator. I had a devil of a time designing it to stop accidentally shoving my black test subjects into it feet-first. It was entirely too noisy that way.

I'm pretty satisfied now that it's ready for use. Now I'll simply have to wait for an opportune time to use it. Sooner or later that lying ape will make a train stop near here, and when he does, I'll send him an invitation for free watermelon, fried chicken, chitlins and white women. Guaranteed to get him here. He'll show up so fast he'll leave a vapor trail. Then I'll leave him alone for a second with the Obamalator while I go to prepare him a plate of soul food. There'll be the short gurgling sound of his lips getting jammed in the chipper's teeth, and then it'll be smooth sailin'. I'll have dog food for a year.

In my mind that's the only possible constructive use anyone can have for that coon. Of course, I'll no doubt have to wait at the end of a very long line of other people that have their own unique ideas on how to deal with that ape. He's not a very popular chimp. He has his tiny island of degenerate supporters who own the media, the banks, and the government, but in reality there's not enough of these freaks to populate one city.

A revolt wouldn't last long at all, as long as it was carefully planned and executed. They could all be arrested in one night. Of course bullets can work wonders for a political problem. History has taught us this repeatedly. Personally however, I like my way better. It hurts worse, and stupid should hurt.

-The Lone Haranguer

HAC Online Interview, Part Two

Hi, guys:

Here is the second part of my online interview with Occidental Quarterly:


Tuesday, December 29, 2009

HAC Interview, Part One

Hi, guys:

I recently did an interview with Greg Johnson of the Occidental Quarterly. He is publishing it in four parts. Here is Part One:


Monday, December 28, 2009

Northwest Independence Internet Resources

Web Sites and Blogs

(This is Calvin's old blog; I keep it up for the archives and the Northwest Glossary.)

(The webmaster on the above is off drunk somewhere, but the old posts are interesting.)

(Gentle Annie's blog)

Free Northwest Novel Downloads

Northwest Video

Tricolor Flags and Merchandise

(Tricolor flags)

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Liberals Are Mentally Ill

The Liberal Mind: The Psychological Causes of Political Madness
by Lyle H. Rossiter Jr. M.D.

Just when liberal-leftists thought it was finally Their Time to lead center-right America, kicking and screaming, into a stifling socialist Utopia, a veteran and acclaimed forensic psychiatrist is making a powerful case that the hope-and-change ideology motivating them is actually a mental disorder.

For more than 40 years, Dr. Lyle Rossiter has diagnosed and treated over 1,500 patients as a board-certified clinical psychiatrist and examined more than 2,700 civil and criminal cases, both state and federal, as a board-certified forensic psychiatrist retained by numerous public offices, courts and private attorneys. He received his medical and psychiatric training at the University of Chicago.

Rossiter explains with great clarity why the kind of liberalism being displayed by Barack Hussein Obama and his Jewish cohorts can only be understood as a psychological disorder.

"Based on strikingly irrational beliefs and emotions, modern liberals relentlessly undermine the most important principles on which our freedoms were founded," says Rossiter. "Like spoiled, angry children, they rebel against the normal responsibilities of adulthood and demand that a parental government meet their needs from cradle to grave.

"A social scientist who understands human nature will not dismiss the vital roles of free choice, voluntary cooperation and moral integrity - as liberals do," he says. "A political leader who understands human nature will not ignore individual differences in talent, drive, personal appeal and work ethic, and then try to impose economic and social equality on the population - as liberals do.

"And a legislator who understands human nature will not create an environment of rules which overregulates and overtaxes the nation's citizens, corrupts their character and reduces them to wards of the liberals do."

Dr. Rossiter says the liberal agenda preys on weakness and feelings of inferiority in the population by:

*Creating and reinforcing perceptions of victimization;

*Satisfying infantile claims to entitlement, indulgence and compensation;

*Augmenting primitive feelings of envy;

*Rejecting the sovereignty of the individual, subordinating him to the will of the government.

"The roots of liberalism - and its associated madness - can be clearly identified by understanding how children develop from infancy to adulthood and how distorted development produces the irrational beliefs of the liberal mind," he says.

"When the modern liberal mind whines about imaginary victims, rages against imaginary villains, and seeks above all else to run the lives of persons competent to run their own lives, the neurosis of the liberal mind becomes painfully obvious."

(Article contributed by the Lone Haranguer)

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Philosophical Digression

Cognitive dissonance is a psychological phenomenon which refers to the discomfort felt at a discrepancy between what you already know or believe, and new information or interpretation.

It therefore occurs when there is a need to accommodate new ideas, and it may be necessary for it to develop so that we become open to them.

This is explained in a book called Descartes' Error by Antonio Damasio. He explains that the lack of ability for US citizens to actually see reality is based on a problem of physical pain in the brain that occurs when someone is faced with new learning that contradicts prior accepted knowledge.

Dr. Damasio says that mind functions by way of a network of neural synapses in the brain that become literally destroyed when confronted by new knowledge. They have to be literally broken to bits and rebuilt, and this destruction causes actual physical pain to the individual.

We as a society now have become pain-adverse to the point that we would rather actually die than learn something new, and endure the actual pain of new learning. Therefore we are now at absolute mortal risk because of our inability to make life saving painful judgments.

Friday, December 25, 2009

Brief Christmas Message

Okay, guys, this year, at long last, the Northwest independence movement began to make a little headway. It seems to have been the election of a nigger to the White House that turned out to be the straw that finally broke the camel's back.

Everybody slacks during the holidays. I get that. Merry Christmas to all of you, and starting January 2nd we need to hit the ground running, because we don't have a whole hell of a lot of time left.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Some Seasonal Good Cheer

[From Christmas 1996. I repost this every year.]

There are times when it seems beyond doubt that we are living in the age of the triumph of evil. Believe it or not, there is still some good in the world. Not much, and on the rare occasions when it shows itself, goodness must peep up from its hiding place like a cautious groundhog and generally pop back underground very quickly to avoid the swooping predators---but every now and then, we get a glimpse.


On October 31st Herbert Perry, a retired businessman in Durham, North Carolina suffered a stroke. He recovered in hospital and early in November was sent to Hillcrest Convalescent Home. He had a roommate, an 88 year-oldman named Helmut Bartsch, who had been on a visit from Germany to his married daughter in Durham and who had also suffered a stroke on October 25th.

At first the two elderly gentlemen didn't talk much, but then Perry's son-in-law brought him some of his effects from home, including a bedside clock with a B-17 bomber on top. It turned out the two roomies had something in common. "Ah, I remember that silhouette," spoke up Bartsch when he saw it. "I remember the sound, too. It was like a hammer of smiths, crack, crack, crack."

Over 50 years ago, Herbert Perry was a corporal in the Army Air Corps in England, an air traffic controller. Helmut Bartsch was across the Channel in Normandy, commanding an anti-aircraft battery in the Wehrmacht. "I put 'em up, he shot 'em down," commented Perry to a local news reporter. "We're very similar even though we're enemies," continued Perry. "He had a stroke on the right side, I had a stroke on the left side. Now we talk about our days in the army. Every time he gets a little blue we sing a German hymn."

"The newspapers were always reporting air attacks on small towns,"said Bartsch, explaining why he volunteered for anti-aircraft. "It was only my duty to serve in the army."

Herbert Perry lost a lot of friends among the air crews he sent up into the sky, heading for Germany, many of them never to return, but he never let himself become bitter and he has always maintained a deep respect for the German people and their culture and intellect. "I even said it back during the war. The German people were smart and if the Americans hadn't come to England Hitler would have conquered them." The two families are now friends and the old vets will be staying in touch after Bartsch returns to Stuttgart.

Better Late Than Never

Crawford J. Ferguson of Charlotte, North Carolina is 72 years old. Half a century ago Crawford T. Ferguson was part of a B-17 crew that flew 35 missions over Germany in 1944, raids which slaughtered untold hundreds of thousands of people. For fifty years it has haunted his sleep. "I keep seeing the plumes of fire down below as the cities fall apart, and at the same time it's like I'm down in the city, burning, running through the flames looking for a child or a wife or a sister," Ferguson told a reporter."I have known for years that there was something I had to do before I die."

What Ferguson had to do was apologize, and this year he did so. He wrote out a total of 13 letters, about 100 words each, and addressed them to the city hall in every German town his plane had ever bombed: Berlin, Bremen, Cologne, Frankfurt, Kassel, Hamburg, Munich, and others not revealed in the news article. In each letter he put a simple, heartfelt apology forwhat he had done in 1944. "Our target was strategic, but innocent lives were lost, citizens maimed and civilian property destroyed. I beg forgiveness for the agony I helped inflict upon you..."

The first few letters got some publicity in Germany; the mayor of Kassel sent Ferguson a thank-you note and the local newspaper printed the apology. A weekly TV news program called Hessenschau picked up the storya nd ran a feature on it. Ferguson also received a letter from the Munich city council, requesting permission to make his letter public, which he granted. The mayor of Munich, Christian Ude, wrote a personal letter of thanks.

Then something odd happened. About half of Ferguson's letters got through, but six of them appear to have been intercepted and returned by the German Federal postal authorities without explanation, possibly because they were deemed to contain "Nazi propaganda." Ferguson says with wry humor, "I wrote to our beloved President Bill Clinton. I sent the letters to him and I told him they had been returned. I invited him to read them and if he thought they merited being forwarded I was going to rely on him to take care of the situation. I've still not heard back from him."

"He Is One Of Us Now"

I read this in a British newspaper over ten years ago and I cannot remember all the details; I will quote from memory as best I can.

In a small village in the Norfolk fen country is a war memorial cemetery for the local dead in both wars. In one corner stands a small white obelisk bearing a Luftwaffe eagle and Swastika. In the early 1980s some of the anti-fascist scum came up from London to squawk and deface and attempt to destroy the headstone. The police and a number of local men came to the cemetery and "saw them off," apparently none too gently. The antifas scurried back to London screaming about police brutality and right-wing vigilantes. In the course of reporting this, the press also retold how the stone came to be there.

In 1944 and 1945 a lot of British and American air groups were operating out of fairly small airfields all across East Anglia. One such was this place in Norfolk. One day there was a massive daylight raid against what was left of Hamburg, using planes from all over these various fields. They dropped their load of death and were headed home when they ran into a number of German fighters.

"We broke up and flew our separate ways back to base, but there was this one German who stuck with us and wouldn't give up," recalled an American pilot. "He shot down at least two planes in our group and probably some more when the dogfight first began, but we just couldn't shake him. Our radio operator spoke some German and he could hear this guy's flight commander ordering him to come back, he would run out of fuel if he didn't, but the German pilot told him something like, 'You saw what they did today. They left nothing. I have nothing to go back to.' Evidently we'd bombed this guy's house, probably killed his family.

"We dodged into a cloud formation and for a while we thought we'd lost him, but over the coast of Holland we had to drop down and get our bearings, and there he was, still on our tail, still shooting at us, shredding us up pretty bad and wounding two of our crew. Our gunners shot back but could never hit him. Damn if the SOB didn't chase us all the way back to England! Our flak opened up on him as we came over the English coast, but they missed. By the time we got back to our field he had two British Spitfires on his tail, but they couldn't seem to tag him either. The guy seemed bulletproof. I got her down and we all jumped out of the aircraft and ran like hell, dragging our wounded with us, and he crashed his Messerschmitt right into our B-17. He finally got us, even though it was at the cost of his own life. His plane didn't catch fire because his fuel tanks were bone dry; he must have been flying on fumes. When they pulled him out of the wreckage dead, it was this blond kid, couldn't have been more than 19 or 20. He didn't have any papers on him, and we never learned his name."

The incident had been witnessed by the local villagers, who were so impressed by the boy's courage that the vicar offered him a burial plot inthe church's war cemetery, where he lies to this day, unknown.

All of the above is quoted from memory, but one thing I do remember with absolute accuracy, because I wrote them down, and that is the words on that young hero's grave in an enemy land. They were composed by an RAF colonel who also witnessed his death:

"Call them misguided, call them even wicked if you must; but no nation or cause ever brought forth defenders of greater courage and worth.They fought like the Northland gods of their ancient and warlike race, and few indeed are those among us who can say that ever we saw their backs."

When the British media asked the local people why they defended the grave of a Nazi, one of them answered, "We don't care what he was. We just know that he was a brave lad who one morning flew all the way from Germany to our village to die here, because he thought it was right that he do so. He is one of us now, and when those yobs came up here from London and insulted his memory they insulted us and all our own dead as well. They weren't even alive during the war, they don't know what it was like back then. Why don't they just bloody well belt up?"

These are the true words of the men who were there, who fought the Jews' war for them and who are far more entitled to speak of that time and those other men than any Deborah Lipstadt or Ken McVay or howling, slobbering Rich Graves.

I have met many men down through the years who were veterans of that war, and I never pass up a chance to see if I can get them to speak of their experiences. While I have to concede that there is a great deal of hatred remaining among those who fought against the Japanese, I have never met a single genuine combat veteran of any Allied Army, American, Canadian, British or South African, who fought against the Germans and who did not speak with respect and admiration of their courage, their skill and devotion as soldiers, and their human qualities of fortitude, humor and compassion in victory and in defeat.

If there are those who can't handle this view of Nazis, then I recommend you start with some of the accounts left by Allied veterans of the first war. (Robert Graves' Goodbye To All That springs to mind, but there are many other good examples.)

As for these hate-filled reptiles at the Simon Wiesenthal Center and the ADL and the AFA and Nizkor, I can only quote again the little old English lady: "Why don't they just bloody well belt up?"

Why indeed?

The Immigrant and the Refugee

by James Wesley Rawles

As a student of history, it is surprising how often the same traumatic patterns emerge in times of economic turmoil, political upheavals, and civil unrest. All too frequently, average citizens get caught in the middle of tumultuous situations and unwittingly are soon reduced to the status of refugee.

Unlike someone that intentionally emigrates to better themselves, a refugee typically hits the road with few or any assets and no sure destination. As I've mentioned before in SurvivalBlog, if the 20th century taught us anything, it is that the one category you don't want to find yourself in is "refugee." Refugees have a short life expectancy, and embody the risks of being tossed about by the waves of change and the vagaries of polical shift and consequent civil unrest. Do everything in your power to avoid becoming a refugee! Your surest and best course of action is to strategically relocate, before tumultuous times occur, to a region that will fare well in hard times.

Just the other day while on a cross country trip, I noticed a commercial trailerload of U-Haul trailers being returned empty to California. This was indicative of the hard times that have befallen the periphery of our nation. In normal (good) times, California was the destination point for U-Haul trailers, but now the worm has turned, and states like Wyoming, Utah, and the Dakotas now have U-Haul trailers and trucks piling up in huge numbers. So many in fact, that they must be shipped back to places like California and Arizona.

My mention of this should not be construed as criticism of those who have left California, Arizona, and Florida, but rather, my hat is off to them for taking the initiative of moving to more prosperous region with better chances for employment. Good for them! They didn't just wallow in self-pity, collecting unemployment, waiting for someone the bail them out. They've taken the initiative to provide for their families, better themselves, and move to greener pastures.

In closing, heads of families should prayerfully develop a contingency plan for relocating in the event of localized economic problems. Again, there is a sharp contrast between someone that proactively relocates in advance of truly bad times and someone that hesitates, and thereby reduces himself and his family to refugee status. If and when hard times befall your family, don't hesitate to relocate. It's better to be a year early than a day late.

This is doubly true in the event of a TEOTWAWKI-scale economic collapse. We have no way of knowing if the current recession will continue to stair-step down into a full multi-decade economic depression. Be ready!

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

The Curse of The Brigade

Hello, Harold:

Have you noticed that out of the Hollyweird celebs and stars you mocked and lampooned in barely concealed pseudonyms in your Taking Down Tinsel Town section of The Brigade, three of them are now dead? Bea Arthur, Heath Ledger, and now Brittany Murphy? And Brittany Murphy died 36 hours after you put up the beginning chapter from the novel on the Taking Down Tinsel Town segment on your blog? Talk about eerie coincidences!

Are you workin' dat Ole Black Magic again like your Movement enemies used to accuse you of?

-Ed Peacock


Shut up, Ed, or I'll turn you into a toad.



It hab been brought to mah attention, to mah muthafukkin' amazement, dat some ob you muthafukkas akshully hab not yet discubbered Niggermania.

Get you pink asses to:

Monday, December 21, 2009

New Books

A new OCR copy of The Hill of the Ravens is now available at

Coming soon: Deceived, Damned, and Defiant- The Revolutionary Writings of David Lane

David Lane was arguably the best known White political prisoner of our time. Out of print for ten years and extremely rare, Lane's revolutionary writings are presented as a collection in a beautifully illustrated volume. Author of the 14 Words credo, Lane died in the super-max federal penitentiary at Florence, CO serving 190 years for resisting the genocide of the White race. Undaunted by his plight, unshakable in his convictions, and caught in a world which unabashedly condemns White survival, David Lane has emerged as an insurgent icon of a turbulent age.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Obongo's Little Jewish Friends Buy A Senator

I note that Nebraska Senator Ben Nelson has now sold his vote in favor of Obamacare to Rahm Emanuel, David Axelrod, and George Soros, for hundreds of millions of dollars of federal bribes for his state, just as Mary Landrieu sold hers a few weeks back for $300 million dollars in the so-called "Louisiana Purchase."

One more degeneration into Third World status under the Democrats: open corruption and bribery of lawmakers with the public auctioning off of legislators' votes, as opposed to the secret back room deals that always prevailed in Congress. Thank you, Barry.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Many A True Word Said In Jest Department

Northwest Front Web News

Some of our comrades in Idaho have established a new forum for Northwest independence aficionados.

Also, the Northwest novel download site is back up after having been knocked down for a couple of weeks by a cyber-attack originating in Israel.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Chapter XVII. - Taking Down Tinsel Town

[Another excerpt from H. A. Covington's The Brigade.]

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 don't 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.

[Author's note: This was obviously written before the advent of the Funky Monkey. Oh, well, one can't be prophetic all the time. - HAC]

"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 on 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. 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 three 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!”

Thursday, December 17, 2009

I Know The Feeling

When you folks get tired of it, pack your bags and migrate to the Homeland in the Pacific Northwest.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Our Lords And Masters, Hard At Work

The Connecticut state legislature works a three-day week, with huge individual salaries and lifetime benefits and medical insurance. This is what Connecticut state taxpayers are getting for their money.

House Minority Leader Lawrence F. Cafero Jr., Republican (Norwalk) pictured standing, far right, speaks while Rep. Barbara Lambert, Democrat (Milford) and Rep. Jack F. Hennessy, Democrat (Bridgeport) play solitaire Monday night as the House convened to vote on a new budget.

The guy sitting in the row in front of these two...he's on Facebook, and the guy behind Hennessy is checking out the baseball scores.

These are the people who rule our lives. These are the people who gave us a nigger president and his Jew handlers who have destroyed the American economy. These are the people who suck up to the Jewish bankers who have sent hundreds of thousands of unemployed White people into the freezing cold of this especially harsh winter, to live under bridges and in the tent cities called "Obamavilles."

Democracy doesn't work in getting rid of them, since the purpose of democracy is to prevent change. It is a historical truism, proven by millennia of human experience, that these yea-saying leeches and the thousands more like them will never give up their power and their money and their offices until they are removed by force. No one ever gives up power voluntarily. That's just the way it is.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

New NF Forum

Some of our comrades in Idaho have established a new forum for Northwest independence aficionados.

Joe Bob says check it out.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Hearts Afire

Although only a few of my long time readers know this, I've been ranting on the Net about the Jews and the Agenda for almost twenty years now. I've made quite a few predictions concerning it, and every last one of them has come true, and usually within the time frame I laid out.

I've watched with growing rage and dismay as an apathetic and blind American public sat stupidly by as the worst enemy we've ever faced as a nation and as a race, went about dismantling everything our forefathers and fathers worked, fought, bled, and died for.

When blacks were given civil rights I was only a child, but even then I knew it was a drastic mistake; one which we would pay dearly for. And when my teachers, parents, and preachers in our church taught me that I should love and trust the Jews as my spiritual brothers, my spirit bore witness to me that there was something drastically wrong with these so-called "brothers."

Children aren't nearly as stupid as people think they are when it comes to spotting bad guys. It's instinctual. In fact whenever someone picked up my infant kids, I learned to watch closely. I had learned the hard way that if my child cried and didn't want to be held by that person, there was something wrong in their spirit, and that I should have a care around them. That might sound silly to some of you, but those parents that have also snapped to this phenomenon know exactly what I'm talking about. In fact it has saved me a ton of grief more than once.

But it doesn't take a crying child, or the ability to predict events to see what's going on all around us today. All it takes is for people to face it. That seems to be the number one problem in America today. Most of the time when I try to talk to someone about the evil in our government, or the horrific conspiracy destroying us, they just don't want to hear it. They either change the subject, ignore me, get mad, or leave the room...anything but listen. And it enrages me. It no longer disappoints me or frustrates me, it enrages me.

How dare they spit on the sacrifices of millions of better men than they? How dare they lay up and hope the new communist regime will at least allow them to have their Big Macs? How dare they timidly roll over like dumb sheep for the butcher's blade? What insanity has infected my people that has caused them to be human lemmings?

And then it finally hit me. I knew the reason. Integrity. It's all about integrity and character. Without these critical traits people become cowards. They become weak, spineless, self-centered cowards. And a true coward will watch his own mother be butchered rather than risk his own miserable neck to try and save her. The Jews have carefully robbed us of these virtues through decades of endless brainwashing. This must stop.

I've come to the hard realization that if we are to salvage even a small corner of this once great nation for a safe haven for our race, it'll have to be done now, and be done by those few among us that are aware of the threat and willing to sacrifice everything to obtain it. By necessity it will have to be a small nation, and we'll have to become ruthless and vicious to defend it.

This is where we can indeed take a lesson from our mortal enemies the Jews. Israel is a tiny nation, surrounded by countries on all sides that do nothing but dream of its destruction. But their abject ferocity keeps them at bay. Even their women serve in their military, and every citizen is trained in warfare. We must copy this tactic to survive. There will be no room for wussies in the New Northwest Nation. No more self-serving freeloaders or talking heads that contribute nothing but strife. Like the Jew controlled media here, our media will also be censored, but censored from anything anti-white race or pro-liberal or Jew. We will make even dating a black a death sentence offense.

Women, even those of our own race are as a rule, are dumber than a bowl of mud when it comes to men and sex. They must be protected from their own stupidity, exactly as our forefathers did. Today's modern, liberated worthless piece of crap American female would have a hissy if she were forced to live back then, because women didn't vote, didn't meddle in politics, and didn't rule their men..and we had no social ills. The word chauvinist is another Jew invention, just like racism. Both words are designed to impart guilt to whites for doing the right thing. They're designed to make us feel guilty for using common sense and morals, as if they were evil.

This is monstrous. Our forefathers would beat us all senseless for ever bowing to those ridiculous new liberal demands. The Jews have been playing our own higher traits as weapons against us. Only the vilest creature imaginable would ever stoop to such a level.

And no, these Jews don't worry about going to Hell. They worship the Devil. This is a well known fact among those that have been close to their inner circles. Their evil is absolute. Those participating in this conspiracy are deranged, bestial abominations not fit to live. I will have absolutely no mercy, and no hesitation in killing any of them on sight. And neither should you. They have destroyed America, and now they're trying to kill you, and all our race's tomorrows out of a deep jealousy and hatred for their superiors. The angels started the Third Reich, but the Devil brought it down.

Almost every single aspect of our history and our lives today is a lie. It's all been twisted by the Jews and their liberal bootlicks to the point the American people don't know who the hell they are anymore.

But a chunk of us do, and that chunk is a lot larger than most of you think. There really is enough of us to pull this off, as long as we don't wait. We have to organize and commit! Get that part? I said commit. That means you get off your butt and get busy now. Stop waiting
for some crisis to galvanize you. That's not how the enemy is going to finish us off. You all know the principle of the boiling frog. They intend on killing us in bits and pieces, legislating us into handcuffs to where we can't do anything if we wanted to. They know that any overt act would galvanize us into action, and they can't risk that..not yet.

Get off your butt and pack. Sell off what you can and give away what you can't take with you. Move Northwest, and join a resistance group. There's literally tons of them up there fighting for independence now, trust me. Or get those you trust and start your own cell.

Get all the gear you know you'll need to fight and survive, and get moving. Time is short. The roads won't be free to travel much longer. The Regime is planning on destroying what's left of the economy, effectively crippling people's ability to move. Don't wait.

Sure, it's going to be hard. "But I've got a job, and bills and responsibilities!" you whine. Oh yeah? For how much longer? All of your world is going to collapse soon, and then what? You'll be stuck and lose everything anyway. At least this way it's on your terms, and you retained the ability to defend yourself and your people. As far as worldly goods go, we're all screwed. All of us. So stop trying to hold onto smoke and get with it. Be a man. What would your grandfather do in this situation? What would he say about your cowardice and fear to make the sacrifices he made? He'd say you don't deserve the country he and all his peers left you. And I'd agree with him.

We need hearts afire with vengeance and battle song. The enemy will learn to quake at the sight of an Aryan, as he did in the old days. Blacks will once again step off the sidewalk when we pass, as they did for my father. Our borders and our homes will once again be safe and holy places; shrines to our race, and to our destiny.

-The Lone Haranguer