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Author: C .T.

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Benito Mussolini Communism Table talks

Uncle Adolf’s table talk, 121

the-real-hitler

 

23rd April 1942, at dinner

My opinion of the Duce—The man who best understood the Bolshevik menace.
 

It will give me very great pleasure to see the Duce again and to discuss with him all the military and political problems of the day. I hold the Duce in the highest esteem, because I regard him as an incomparable statesman. On the ruins of a ravished Italy he has succeeded in building a new State which is a rallying point for the whole of his people. The struggles of the Fascists bear a close resemblance to our own struggles.

Did they not have, for example, six thousand six hundred dead at Verona? The Duce is one of the people who appreciated the full measure of the Bolshevik menace, and for this reason he has sent to our Eastern front divisions of real military merit. He told me himself that he had no illusions as to the fate of Europe if the motorised hordes of the Russian armies were allowed to sweep unchecked over the Continent, and he is quite convinced that, but for my intervention, the hour of decline was approaching for western Europe.

Categories
Civil war Turner Diaries (novel) William Pierce

The Fame, 2

WLP

From The Fame of a Dead Man’s Deeds:
An Up-Close Portrait of William Pierce
by Robert Griffin


 
In William Pierce’s novel, The Turner Diaries, the events that set off the anti-government terrorist acts of Earl Turner were a series of brutish government raids on gun owners following the passage of federal legislation outlawing the private ownership of firearms. Turner reacted to the raids by blowing up a federal building with a fuel-oil and fertilizer bomb concealed in a truck. Not only was the composition of the fictional bomb almost exactly the same as the one Timothy McVeigh constructed and detonated, it was also almost exactly the same weight. It seems very probable that McVeigh saw parallels between the government raid on the Branch Davidians in Waco to enforce anti-gun laws and the gun raids portrayed in The Turner Diaries, and that McVeigh responded to what he saw as the unwarranted and violent assaults on gun owners in Waco the same way that the protagonist in Pierce’s book, Earl Turner, had responded to the heavy-handed crackdowns on gun owners by agents of the fictional federal government.

Anti-Defamation League [Note of the Ed.: A Jewish hate group] sources have reported that just days before the bombing, McVeigh mailed an envelope to his sister in Florida containing copies of the cover and selected pages from The Turner Diaries. He included a note that said she should be sure to read the back cover. On the back cover of The Turner Diaries at the top in bold black letters is the question, “What will you do when they come to take your guns?” And then the answer: “The patriots fight back with a campaign of sabotage and terror.” When McVeigh’s sister learned of her brother’s arrest in connection with the bombing, she burned the contents of the envelope.

Incidentally, McVeigh’s accomplice in the bombing, Terry Nichols, also may have been influenced by the writings of William Pierce. Federal agents found a copy of another of Pierce’s novels, Hunter, in Nichols’ home. They saw few other books in the house. Hunter, written in the late 1980s, is Pierce’s follow-up to The Turner Diaries. It recounts the exploits of Oscar Yeager, who tries to “cleanse” America by killing first interracial couples and then Jews.

In the weeks immediately preceding the bombing, McVeigh stayed at the Imperial Hotel off Route 66 near Kingman, Arizona. Several sources have reported that between April 5th and April 11th McVeigh made seven calls to a message center operated by a radical right-wing organization called the National Alliance. The chairman of the National Alliance is William Pierce. Two of the seven calls allegedly were patched through to Pierce’s unlisted number in West Virginia where he is headquartered.

The Turner Diaries was the very first piece of evidence introduced by the prosecution at McVeigh’ s trial in Denver. During the trial, several of McVeigh’s friends told the court that he had mailed them copies of the book along with a note encouraging them to read it. One of them, Kyle Kraus, a buddy from McVeigh’ s army days, testified that when he learned of the Oklahoma City bombing, he was immediately reminded of scenes from the book and grabbed the copy McVeigh had sent him and took it to the local FBI office.

McVeigh’s first contact with The Turner Diaries came when he was in the army and ran across an advertisement for the book in the mail order section of the survivalist magazine, Soldier of Fortune. McVeigh ordered the book and according to those around him at the time awaited its arrival with eager anticipation. When the book finally arrived, McVeigh became obsessed with it, reports his roommate William Dilly. “He took it into the field and read it for three weeks straight,” Dilly said. “He said it was really wild and tried to get me to read it.” Another friend of McVeigh’s, Brandon Sticky, said that McVeigh read and re-read the book and was known for constantly carrying his well-thumbed copy of the small paperback around with him in his pocket.

After leaving the service, McVeigh sold The Turner Diaries at weekend gun shows, often for less than his own cost. Fellow gun-show merchants said it was as if the contents of the book were his religion and he were looking for converts. “Mostly, McVeigh’s fervor came from The Turner Diaries,” a gun collector who crossed paths with him said later. “He was its greatest publicist. He carried the book all the time. He sold it at the shows. He’d have a few copies in the cargo pocket of his cammies. They were supposed to be $10, but he’d sell them for $5.”

Apparently The Turner Diaries altered the course of Tim McVeigh’s life as well as the lives of thousands of people in Oklahoma City. And to the extent that the Oklahoma City bombing is a memorable event—and even, in ways that are not clear to us now, a significant event—William Pierce’s self-published novel has become part of the history of America.

Categories
Axiology Final solution Islamization of Europe

On fighting the Semites

by Jack Frost

The Christian fight with Muslims was never based on race, but religion. Had the Turks or Arabs agreed to convert to Christianity, history would have taken quite a different course.

expulsion judasAs if to demonstrate the preceding point, the Spanish monarchs did indeed expel some of their Jews, but only after trying to force them to convert. Only Jews who refused to convert to Christianity were expelled by the Alhambra decree of 1492. But the grounds were never racial, only religious.

Categories
Marriage Miscegenation Table talks

Uncle Adolf’s table talk, 122

the-real-hitler

24th April 1942, at dinner

Marriage and the child problem—German soldiers marrying women of the occupied countries—The educative rôle of the Schools of the Reich—The wives of our leaders.
 

This conversation took place during a journey from Fuehrerhauptquartier to Berlin. The subject under discussion was marriage and children. The Fuehrer said:

The history of the German Princes proves, generally speaking, that the most successful marriages are not those which are founded solely on reasons of expediency. In all human activities only that which is true has any chance of survival, and it is therefore only natural that a marriage inspired by sincere mutual love should be the union with the best chance of happy success. Such a marriage constitutes a guarantee for the manner in which the children will be brought up, and this is a guarantee of inestimable value for the future of the German people.

I do not think, therefore, that we should sanction, except in isolated cases, marriage between our soldiers and foreign women. The request may often be based on sound reasons, but all the same it should be refused. Most of these cases, obviously, result from a sexual experience which the applicant desires to continue—and the number of requests submitted to me is enormous.

It suffices, however, to glance at the photographs of most of the candidates to realise that in the majority of cases the union is not desirable. Most of the women concerned are either malformed or ugly, and from the racial point of view the results could not be satisfactory. I am sure, too, that such marriages would not stand the test of time. A really happy marriage can only be attained by people deeply attracted to each other.

Where marriage itself is concerned it is, of course, essential that both parties should be absolutely healthy and racially beyond reproach. How decisive the influence of real attachment between the parents is on the children of a marriage is brought home to me when I think of the number of men of outstanding ability who originate from the Orphans’ Homes during that period of history when people really in love were so often precluded from marrying for reasons of social expediency.

These Orphans’ Homes, I think, were most valuable institutions. As far as we are concerned, our schools are in a position to deal adequately with the problem. In the National Socialist centres of education, combined with the boarding-schools, all necessary arrangements have been made for the reception of racially healthy illegitimate children and the giving to them of an education appropriate to their talents. These Schools of the Reich are also an ideal refuge for the children of marriages which have gone wrong; it is far better that they should be removed from the atmosphere of a disrupted home, which leaves its mark on a man for the rest of his life.

I grant you, it is a most laudable thing that parents who no longer love each other try to maintain the semblance of a happy marriage for the sake of their children; but it is an effort that very seldom succeeds. I have seen so many cases among members of our Party, whose wives have not been able to keep pace with their husbands’ rise in life.

Grasping their opportunities, these latter have seen their talents blossom and expand in the execution of the tasks I have confided to them; burdened with wives who have ceased to be worthy of them, and exposed to unending petty domestic squabbles, they gradually come to accept as inevitable the idea of separation. To my mind, it is obvious that a man should seek in his wife qualities which are complementary to his own as the path towards a full and ideal life. But one cannot make hard and fast rules, and there are many exceptions. I have now been enumerating cases in which one’s sympathies lie with the man, but there are many cases in which it would be unjust in the extreme to demand of a woman that she should systematically sacrifice herself on the altar of matrimony.

I have no sympathy whatever for the man who maltreats his wife, and who subjects her either to moral torture or material burdens.

Categories
George Lincoln Rockwell

This Time, 2

rockwell

A passage from This Time the World
by George Lincoln Rockwell

I mounted the platform when the boys were ready. Then I knew what was going on. Like a hoard of locusts, almost in military formation, over two hundred of last week’s burly Jew hoodlums and toughs swarmed around our stand and began an obviously organized chant of “Sick! Sick! Sick!” This was not too surprising, but what happened next was horrifying. The Jews began to push and hang over the ropes and swing at our men, and the police retreated even farther away with folded arms!

When I say it was horrifying, I do not mean that what the Jews were doing was horrifying. We expected them to try to kill us, if they thought they could and we were prepared to teach them the error of this method. But it must be remembered that to survive, we have to bend over backward to be legal. The minute the Jews can show that we have violated the law or even appear to have violated the law, they can bring more than enough pressure to have us stowed away and silenced. We must depend on the police to uphold the law, since we are forbidden to defend ourselves even fairly, by violence, much as we sometimes ache to do.

When the police suddenly “couldn’t see” the most gross attacks on us, we knew that an honest police department had finally succumbed to intolerable Jewish pressure, and we were in for whatever the Jews could work up their courage to do. For over an hour and a half, I managed to hold the howling, spitting mob by arrogance and psychologically—calculated disdain for their overwhelming numbers. To say that we were not afraid would be untruthful, for we were only eleven and they were over two hundred and fifty, plus the fact that our whole future, all our struggles and sacrifices for over two years were lying in the balance. It was obvious that they were determined to have their riot this day and then claim that we had to be suppressed for “causing” such disorder.

Nevertheless, it took those Jews over an hour and a half to work up the courage to rush us and even then, they thinned our number first by having one big Trooper called out by falsely telling military police he was a Marine, thus reducing our number to ten.

In they rushed, like an avalanche of wild beasts, screaming and howling for my guts! The stand flew over as the Jews struck and I landed in a struggling mass of fighting men. Two yelling Jews grabbed me. One of my men, already down and fighting desperately, grabbed his feet and he went down. But the other Jew aimed a blow at my groin. I hit him in the head and, as he fell, another Trooper tackled him. How my boys pitched in! But the Jew still went for the same attack on me. This time, I replied in kind and gave that Jew a dose of his own medicine!

The fight lasted for only four or five minutes, after which the police rushed in from where they had been hiding and broke it up. Major Morgan was choked unconscious, was bleeding profusely and had his right knee permanently damaged by a number of kicks he received when he was under a pile of seven or eight Jews. Lieutenant Warner, National Secretary of the Party at the time, had the top of his left ear bitten almost off and all of us were cut and bruised. We later discovered that one of the large men who had recently joined us and loudly boasted how he would fight—Fred Hockett, by name—had run out of the ring in terror when the fight began, so that we had only nine men there to fight that murderous mob.

And we showed the Jews the caliber of those nine men when the police broke up the fight—for we immediately set up our stand and were prepared to speak. I mounted the platform again, broken and wrecked as it was, and would have spoken, but police called me down and I was arrested for “disorderly conduct”. For the first time in my life, I found myself dragged off to jail, and as I sat in a cell awaiting bail, it was impossible not to think back on the chain of circumstances which had placed me here in the ugly, urine-smelling cellblock of the First Precinct of Washington, D.C.

Categories
Patriarchy Real men Women

Caperucitas

Roodkapje 
The hilarious preface of Griffin’s biography about Pierce—my previous post: here—shows what I have been trying to say: that Little Red Riding Hoods, as I call women in my soliloquies (“Caperucitas” in my native language) have no place in a Syssitia guild for priests of the 14 words.

Las Caperucitas think with their emotions, not with their heads. Our guilds must be Boys Only Clubs.

Here in Mexico the only whites who have remained pure blooded Aryans for generations are the Mennonites. They forbid their Little Reds to learn Spanish—the language to contact the mud world—and know only a sort of German dialect.

After The Day of the Rope the surviving wolves will have to reinstate old fashioned marriage, patriarchy and control their women.

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William Pierce Women

The Fame, 1

WLP

From The Fame of a Dead Man’s Deeds:
An Up-Close Portrait of William Pierce
by Robert Griffin


 
 

Cattle die, and kinsmen die,
And so one dies oneself;
One thing I know that never dies:
The fame of a dead man’s deeds.

—Pre-Christian Norse poem.

 

PREFACE

It was a little after 7:00 p.m. on one of the pleasant summer evenings I had come to expect in the mountains of West Virginia. I was waiting for William Pierce in his cluttered, book-lined office in the National Alliance headquarters building. I had been living in this remote area on Pierce’s property for over two weeks at that point. When I had come to his office a couple of minutes before, I was surprised to find that Pierce wasn’t there. We were well into a series of interviews I was conducting with him in the evenings, and he’d always been here when I arrived. I assumed that something had held him up and that he would be along in a minute or two. I set up my tape recorder and went over the notes I had put together about the areas I wanted to explore during that night’s session.

I had just finished going through my notes when out of the corner of my eye I saw someone come in through the door to the left of where I was seated. It wasn’t Pierce but rather his new wife, with Pierce right behind her. That surprised me; always before, Pierce had been alone.

“Bob, could you and I talk after you talk with Bill?” Pierce’ s wife said in her halting, heavily-accented English and in her polite and gentle way. She had come from Eastern Europe to West Virginia less than a year before. She and Pierce had not met before she came, and after she was here only a month they married. Pierce’s wife is an attractive woman of about fifty I would guess, with auburn hair and very fair skin. She had taught art to children in her native country. I was taken by her calling him “Bill.” She was the only one who lived or worked on the property who did. To everyone else, including me, he was Dr. Pierce. She seemed on edge about something. She was usually smiling and upbeat, but not now.

“Oh, why don’t you two talk now,” Pierce interjected gruffly. “You don’t have to wait until later.”

With that, Pierce’s wife sat down on the nearest of a row of chairs that face Pierce’s desk. I was seated a couple of chairs away from the one she sat on. Pierce went around his desk and took a seat behind it.

There we were, the three of us. It was silent for a moment. There was tension in the air, but I had no idea what it was about.

Pierce’s wife turned and faced me. “I have something to ask of you,” she said. She seemed shaken.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked.

“I’m afraid,” she replied.

“Afraid?”

“Bill gets letters from people who say they are going to kill him. I was here for four months before I knew that. I didn’t know that!”

“You do look frightened,” I said.

“I’ve asked Bob [Bob DeMarais, an aide to Pierce] if something happens to Bill to help me return to my country.”

I didn’t know what to say, and up to that point Pierce hadn’t said anything.

“In your book,” she continued, “please don’t use my name or say where I am from. And please don’t show my picture. I am afraid something will happen to me if people know who I am.”

I said I didn’ t want to see her afraid like this, and that I would use some other name for her, and that I wouldn’t say what country she was from or use her picture.

“Thank you,” she said. “That is very nice of you.”

At this point, still seated, she dipped her hand into her pants pocket and pulled out a pistol. I jumped. “I carry this everywhere I go,” she said as she held the gun neck high in her right hand to display it to me.

I was speechless and stared at the gun.

“Don’t be waving that gun around, it’s loaded!” Pierce barked.

“You maybe think it is silly I have a gun,” she said to me, the pistol now in her lap. “But Bill wears a gun all the time. He has it right next to him when he goes to sleep.”

As a matter of fact, Pierce had a holstered weapon strapped to his waist at that very moment—I’d gotten used to that. I reiterated that I would protect her identity.

So I will call Pierce’s wife Irena in the book. It is the only name I have changed.

Categories
Axiology Liberalism Neanderthalism

Neanderthal liberalism

“Liberalism, [Anthony Ludovici] avers, by exhausting itself on the least able and weakest, by elevating pity to a virtue out of envy for the able, had saddled the economy with a welfare state that encourages the proliferation of criminals and idle imbeciles…”

—Alex Kurtagic

Categories
George Lincoln Rockwell Real men Swastika

This Time, 1

rockwell

A passage from This Time the World
by George Lincoln Rockwell

 

Dedication to: Adolf Hitler

Like spiritual giants before you—you were cursed and driven to death by spiritual pygmies for daring to stand up for a new and vital truth. Your heroic people lie silent, bound in golden chains and torn between the two criminal gangs of Bolsheviks and Zionists.

I helped to bomb and burn millions of your brave young men. Your blue-eyed young mothers were raped and murdered by Soviet and Negro savages. The millions of little blond boys and girls you loved so well lie moldering in acres of devastation and ruin. Millions of my fellow Americans, British, French and others of our racial comrades, all as ignorant as I once was, were slaughtered and maimed fighting for these same two filthy gangs of Zionists and Bolsheviks.

The Weltfeind cringes like the Devil at the sign of the cross. Your mighty spirit has inspired millions with the Holy Truth. From all over the earth, faintly at first, comes the sound of marching boots—louder and louder they grow! Listen! They are singing!

“Die Fahne Hoch! Die Reihen fest geschlossen!”

Out of the mud and slime of lies, your holy red, white and black Swastika has been flung back into the skies in Virginia, United States of America, and we pledge you our lives, Adolf Hitler, that we shall not flag or fail until we have utterly destroyed the forces of Marxism and darkness.

HEIL HITLER!

“It is necessary that I should die for my people; but my spirit will rise from the grave and the world will know that I was right.”

Categories
Americanism Egalitarianism Tom Sunic

Homo Americanus, 9

homoamericanus
 Huxley noted that all actions of extraordinary men in the Americanized future—given that their acts do not fall into the egalitarian scheme—“will be regarded as a crime.” He wrote, “In this reversal of the old values, I see a real danger, a menace to all desirable progress.”

—Homo Americanus, chapter 2