Dry sand

When the Radio Free Mississippi interviewer asked Alex Linder what he thought about Kevin MacDonald a dozen years ago, Linder replied, “We need PhDs.”

Very true. But if a white nationalist didn’t make a career in academia, he should start infiltrating the world of American politics.

Yesterday I was thinking that, within the racialist movement, the only people I respect (as a professor emeritus, KMD is a special case) are those Groypers who are starting to follow Nick Fuentes’s advice: surreptitiously infiltrate the Republican Party. (To bring about the scenario in William Pierce’s novel requires more decades of suffering for the American population.)

To limit oneself to commenting, say in The Unz Review, is feminine behaviour. Real men fight in the real world. In Europe, it’s impossible because if you speak with the frankness of someone like Nick, they simply throw you in jail. In the Third World, where I live, there is more freedom of expression because the racial battle has already been lost (there are hardly any pure whites left in the country where I live; let’s say, the Orthodox Mennonites who haven’t yet mixed with the native population).

The series of videos I’ve started subtitling, thanks to Benjamin’s efforts, reveal where I come from: I’m trying to know myself thanks to religiously following the mandate of the Oracle of Delphi, something neither Christians nor atheists do. That’s why—in sharp contrast to the methods of academia—I constantly post autobiographical vignettes on this site.

One of them is precisely making public one of my soliloquies: “Which contemporary men do I truly respect?”

Until recently, I despised virtually the entire racial right because, as I said, despite their First Amendment rights, they behave like women (limiting themselves to posting comments on racialist forums). The case of Nick, or those who are beginning to secretly infiltrate political positions, is quite different: finally, some very young men are doing something manly in the real world. As I’ve confessed, I don’t care if they’re Christians. Unlike the vast majority of racialists who, following my old metaphor, are petrified halfway across the psychological Rubicon because of the eye of Medusa, the Groypers are slowly moving toward our shore.

Once we finish subtitling the series of videos in which I talk about what my parents and a Freudian follower did to me when I was a minor—something that has happened to millions of Aryan children; think, for example, of the millions drugged with Ritalin—, I will begin speaking directly to the Groypers so they continue advancing toward us. Of course, that can’t be done on YouTube because they would take down our channel; only on Rumble.

If just one Groyper realizes that the journey to the beaches of NS has much to do with becoming aware of the Christian Question, I’ll be satisfied. It’s extremely rare for anyone to touch the dry sands on this side of the river with the soles of their feet.