Friday, August 25, 2017

HAC On Charlottesville (Expanded)




Greetings from the Northwest Homeland, comrades. It’s August the 24th, 2017, I’m Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.

I mentioned in my last podcast that this week I’m preparing an extensive commentary on the Charlottesville episode of August 11-12. What happened on that weekend has major ramifications, just not the ones many of us might think.

First off, I’ve made it clear over the past several months that I have severe reservations about the character of Richard Spencer, not least being that he seems dress like a cross between Colonel Sanders and Elwood Blues have the time, with a metrosexual white jacket and inappropriate sunglasses. There’s a difference between being a good-looking man and being too cutesy for words.

I’ll get into all that later, but I don’t want the problem of Richard Spencer the man to overshadow the long-term political and racial ramifications which are more important. There are serious and wide-ranging implications for what Spencer is doing that need to be prioritized for examination and analysis. He’s definitely started a ball rolling here, for good or for ill, and we have no idea where it’s going to stop.

Now, before saying anything else, let’s give credit where credit is due. I have to congratulate Spencer on a genuine and impressive achievement. If we’re gonna do this LARPing and street theater stuff, this is the way to do it, and he has an excellent sense of the dramatic. He did what we’ve all been trying to do for a long time, or claiming that we wanted to do for a long time. He got around five hundred White people, mostly younger males, actually to come out from behind their computers and get their asses into the street. And yeah, the best estimate I can get from some guys who were there is between 400 and 500 people, not "thousands" as has been reported by the hysterical media. Those torches multiply the apparent size of any crowd.

I also have to concede that there was one point on the night of August the 11th wherein Elwood made history, when hundreds of torch-bearing White people actually surrounded a little band of antifa led by a creature who looked and sounded like Gollum from Lord of the Rings. That is the only time in my life I have ever seen us outnumber these scum, and I will always be grateful to Mr. Spencer for that one optic alone.

Don’t ever think I’m just poo-pooing his accomplishment out of jealousy or anything like that. That’s just not the case. For one thing I’m too old to be jealous. One of the things one has to accept as part and parcel of growing old is that younger men are going to come along and follow in your footsteps, and I do. Just not this particular younger man. If I could be convinced that Elwood really is our Man on a White Horse I’d be telling everybody so. But he’s not. There are just too many things about him that are a little off kilter; the best I can put it is that he makes my spidey sense tingle.

One quick note: in this coming podcast I’m going to refer to Spencer’s shindig with a kind of royal we, since whether we like it or not, and regardless of whether it’s accurate or not, the media has now officially coronated Richard Spencer as our Fearless White Leader, and from now on everything he does and says will be treated like a Pope of Rome speaking ex cathedra. When I use the term “we” from now on with reference to the alt.right in general and Elwood in particular, I am referring to the perception that the public has, including a large portion of the White Nationalist internet audience, okay?

In point of fact, there is a good deal of doubt in my mind about how much “we” had to do with it all, but more on that later.

Let’s look this square on in the face. No-holds-barred truth. The fact is that as good an effort as this was, by the standards of our wee little Movement, we still laid on months of preparation and hard work and had people driving or flying thousands of miles from all over the continent, in order to bring together roughly the same number of people as a moderately large wedding reception. 

You see, that’s another fact of life we need to come to grips with: there just aren’t that many of us. Another reason we need as many as possible living in communities a half an hour’s drive from one another.

I’ll tell you something else. I’m going to go out on a limb here—really—and prognosticate that at least as far as numerical attendance goes, this Charlottesville gig will prove to be Richard Spencer’s high water mark. I don’t think he will be able to bring that many people together, tiki torch in hand, ever again. I think among other things there will be legal consequences growing out of August 12th that it will take Spencer years to get clear of. But we’ll see how that plays out and we’ll see if I’m right on that.

I believe that the adverse effects of Spencer’s achievement will outweigh the good in the long run, but my reasons for doing so are based on observation and experience, and the emotional and optic impact of Charlottesville is quite different, a fact we must accept and deal with. Whiteboys have been raised from birth to feel rather than to think, but we have to sit down and think about all this, very carefully.

I admit that to surface perception this Charlottesville thing actually does feel a little bit like victory of some kind. It certainly validates us in the massive media coverage department. (Dead bodies will do that. If it bleeds, it leads.) It’s only when you start looking ahead a few months or years that one sees the problems, like sharp jagged rocks below the water along a green and pleasant coastline.

What Spencer did in Charlottesville was something I never thought would happen, something which is potentially lethal to the White race and in my opinion may well pose an existential threat to our species. He has re-opened a battle of strategic thought which frankly I once believed the NF had pretty much won, and would never have to fight again.

I’m talking about the Brady Bunch fantasy, the sea to shining sea delusion, the idea that somehow it is possible for a White political movement, or some single act of dashing derring do, or by praying hard enough to the great jumping Jesus, to turn back the clock to a time a decreasing few of us still remember, and which most of us can only watch on our electronic screens, often in black and white.

Spencer’s knees-up in Charlottesville has revived in our minds the idea that somehow, through some inconceivable process or event, it will be possible to bring back Eisenhower, Ozzie and the Beaver and the Brady Bunch, bobbi sox and the family station wagon and church on Sunday followed by the Golden Corral buffet. We so long to turn back the hands of time to the 50s and 60s, or even the 70s and 80s, (nostalgia for leg warmers and 8-tracks?) We so badly want to take back all of Amurrica at once from sea to shining sea and make everything like it once was.

The problem is, it can’t be done. No. It’s just not possible, and if you guys will sit and think about this for a minute you will understand that it is no more possible now than it was three weeks ago before Charlottesville. The clock of history turns forward, never backward. Things in this country have simply gone too far. That has always been one of the bedrock foundations of the Northwest Migration, and now thanks to Richard Spencer’s tiki torches it is under challenge.

I will give only one concrete reason. Right now there are an estimated 180 million people on the North American continent who should not be here. Everything from Hong Kong Chinese in Vancouver to Salvadorean gang-bangers in Los Angeles, from Somali warlords in Minneapolis to mosques in Houston, from screaming sexual deviates to nappy-headed booga booga boogas, from Rachel Maddow to bird-brained Christian Zionists to half the population of Washington D.C. and last but not least, millions of pale-skinned moral imbeciles who voted for Hillary Clinton. 

Just what the hell are we going to do with all these people? No, I mean really? We’re waiting, Mr. Spencer.

Elwood Blues doesn’t have an answer, and he ain’t never gonna have an answer. I do, as you know.

I have sometimes compared the job of the Northwest Front to being a schoolmaster in a classroom of unruly seven-year-olds on a warm spring day with the windows open. It’s hard enough at the best of times to keep our little scholars’ noses stuck into their books and studying the multiplication tables on the blackboard.

But then outside, the circus comes marching down the street, with calliopes and bass drums and clowns and elephants and pretty girls in sequined outfits stunt-riding on horses, and some slick ringmaster like Richard Spencer shouting through a megaphone that he’s got the greatest show on earth. I honestly figured we were about out of that stage, but I was wrong, and now we have to go through it all again.

What the Party has to engage in now is a massive back-to-basics campaign, clearly and cogently laying out the simple political and demographic facts of life to our own people. The case for geographic separation in general and the Northwest Homeland in particular must be made and re-made over and over again, the sheer depressing logic of it pounded into our people’s skulls until we finally get their attention away from all the flickering torches and they take a good long look around them and they see what is real, near, and deadly dangerous.

We cannot keep a large number of our own people from running to Richard Spencer like lemmings, eager for the promised entertainment, which I am sure he will provide. What we can do is make sure that the minority of people in our ranks who retain the ability to think rather than to feel come with us.

One of the ways in which Spencer’s new movement will founder is the same way all the others have: his essential lack of a plan. At least so far. If he has one, he isn’t sharing it, and if he has one he needs to.

Hundreds or even thousands of torches in the darkness are an awe-inspiring sight, that I grant you. They are not a plan, they are a light show at a rock concert. (And yes, I am aware of my own past joking references to torchlight parades. Our Movement is nothing if not full of irony.)

So what is the plan, Richard? What precisely are you going to do with all those bodies and how will you bring that plan to fruition?

The problem is, Spencer is at least so far trying to work within democracy, and always remember that the purpose of democracy is to prevent change. At best, even for those who play the game successfully with skill and ruthlessness and dump-truck loads full of money, democracy only ends up in one place, elected office. And we see with Donald Trump how that works out for genuine outsiders. If Trump is having this hard of a time how the hell do you think somebody like Richard Spencer would fare?

My guess is Spencer simply wouldn’t be allowed to assume any office he was elected to; the Jews and Deep State would get some kind of court injunction barring him from admission into Congress or the White House, or wherever.

Nevertheless, I figure we’re most likely looking at a Richard Spencer for President campaign, probably kicked off in 2018 with a Congressional bid in Texas, where he’s from, or some other red area. If you’re going to use democracy, that’s the only way it can go. Or possibly some big media company so Mr. Spencer can become his generation’s Roger Ailes.

Neither of which secures the existence of our people and a future for White children.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home