Sunday, April 23, 2017

It's Still Happening

[No, I am not making this up. Apart from the few redactions noted, this is exactly how this e-mail arrived. So degraded have we become that I have to question, at least a little, whether there is an American 17-year-old who is even capable of writing like this any more. I dunno, though--I've gotten enough of these down through the years to spot the ring of truth, and this one rings true to me . -HAC]

Hello Mr. Covington,

My name is [redacted] and I am interested in becoming involved with the Northwest Front. I have read a few of your novels and liked them immensely. It impresses me that you have a coherent and logical plan to ensure our existence as a people and are doing more than just talking about it or make large profits to retire on. I think I should start off this introduction with a little about myself.

I am 17 years old and currently live in West Virginia about 10 minutes outside a small town named [redacted] in [redacted] county. If you asked me how I got into this way of thinking I'd find it hard to explain. Because I was born in a very rural part of West Virginia, we were spared from any major diversity of any sort. Of my high school of 400-some kids, we only have three non-whites, all of which were adopted into white families.

One day when I was fooling around on the internet I stumbled on a .pdf file of a book written by Commander George Lincoln Rockwell. The title was White Power. I have no idea what compelled me actually to read it. Maybe it was pure teenaged rebelliousness. But once I started I couldn't stop, and that book shook every fiber in my body and sparked a conviction in me I couldn't forget or ignore. I pored over every book and article on the subject I could find. I went to dozens of websites looking for direction. I read This Time the World, For My Legionaries, and then your Northwest Quartet.

Then one day I walked into my school library, with a purpose for once. I searched those shelves for ten minutes till I found what I was looking for. In the most obscure corner of the room I pulled off the shelf a dusty Mein Kampf that was last checked out in the 70s.

I immediately "liberated" it and put into my backpack and walked out. It took me a month to read it and then I sat down and really thought about what the F├╝hrer was saying. I knew from that moment onward that if I did nothing to further these goals I wouldn't be able to live with myself. When I was thoroughly finished with it I later returned it. I have found my purpose in life sir, and I am asking for guidance.



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