I’m speaking to you on the morning after the victory of
Donald Trump in the presidential election, a victory I freely admit I did not
expect him to win. I have never been so glad to have been proven wrong in my
life. My once-famous gift of prophecy has failed and my Northwest novels are
now inaccurate in that respect, and I’m fine with that, because I had no wish
to see the country ruled by a sick and angry monster just to be proven right.
I still have many reservations about Donald Trump, and over
the coming months I will speak of these reservations and criticism, but not
today. Today is Donald Trump’s day. He has made history and he deserves to bask
in the glory of his magnificent achievement.
I have spent most of my life reading and studying history,
and on a few occasions such as the Greensboro
incident, the John Hinckley affair, Operation Skokie and the
1980 Attorney General’s race in North Carolina,
I’ve played a minor part in a historical footnote or two myself.
But the 2016 election and the rise of Donald Trump has been
a major historical event, one I have thrilled to live through and watch unfold.
I won’t be so arrogant as to claim that I played any serious part in it, but it
has been a joy to watch and to fill even the most minor of participatory roles,
to feel swept along in history’s surging tide. I’m sure most of you feel the
Whatever any of us may have done as individuals to help
bring this about was just a pin-prick, but thousands of pin-pricks put together
can bring down the Beast, and in this case, so we did. We brought down the
Hildebeest, an especially nasty specimen of the breed.
As a young man, Lenin was once told that by trying to
overthrow the régime of the Russian Czar, he was beating his head against a
brick wall. “Yes,” he replied, “But it’s a rotten wall. A few good kicks will
send it tumbling down.” We didn’t bring down the entire rotten and senile
system of government yesterday. That will inevitably happen, just not for a few
years yet. But we sure as hell administered a powerful kick, and we made the
For the first time in two generations, since the 1968
candidacy of George Wallace, White people were offered the option to vote their
racial interests. Up until now, almost none of us have ever had such a chance
or have ever seen it happen; in 1968 I was too young to vote.
Wallace lost. Rhodesia
died. South Africa
died. A mulatto nigger was sent to the Oval Office. We are hopelessly embroiled
in the Middle East in order to save Israel’s
skin and a whole new generation of veterans has come home mangled and insane.
The economy is a basket case. Bugger boys can now legally marry their
catamites. Men in female clothing can now enter women’s bathrooms. Europe
has been invaded by millions of dark-skinned rapists and savages. American
culture and American universities are now toxic for people of our skin color,
especially boys, and we have lost an entire generation to the internet and the
smartphone, a generation which will probably be the last.
But yesterday we won, by which I mean White people as a race
won, and that hasn’t happened within living memory. For the first time since
the end of Reconstruction in this country, the good guys finally won one. Even
my grandfather never saw that in his time. Now I have, and I will always thank
God for that privilege.
What we have gained is a breathing space, time to make one
last effort to finally, at long last, get our act together. Make no mistake:
all we won was a battle, although a big one. The war is still ongoing, and will
be until the White race either establishes multiple Homelands and ethnostates
for our sole habitation and use, or until we are finally exterminated from the
face of the earth because even in the face of extinction, we will not fight.
That is still a very real likelihood. The powerful forces that want us all dead
are still out there, and already they are circling like sharks, plotting and
preparing for their return to power. The enemy is confused, shaken, and mad
with fury today. Tomorrow their heads will be back in the game and the sharks
But by God, yesterday we won! November the 8th, 2016 was nothing less than a good
old-fashioned peasant’s revolt, when the worms of the earth rose up to devour
the lions. It was a modern version of the storming of the Bastille, and its
consequences will be just as far-reaching.
Even if White people do ultimately perish from the earth in
the end, if anyone survives who can read whatever is written by whomever it is
written, history will record that we did not go gentle into that good night,
that at least once before the end the pale-skinned peasants turned on their
lords and masters and dealt them a stunning blow.
We have to follow through on that blow. In the months to
come, I will tell you how, and I hope to God you will listen and take heed. But
for today, rejoice and take pride that we have struck down one of the most
wicked and vile of those who seek our death, and beaten her into the dust.