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Brigade (novel) Civil war

The Brigade excerpts, chapter XV

by Harold Covington


“Ragnarok On Flanders Street”


Covington in uniform
“COPS!” screamed Kicky at the top of her voice. “Cops! It’s a trap! They’re all around us!” She reversed the Escalade, hit the gas and roared back into the street tailgate first. Wing looked up to see the armored personnel carrier for Delta One team turning into Flanders Street from Twelfth Avenue.

“Shit!” he shouted. He yelled into the phone, “They’re onto us! Ambush on Flanders! Beat feet! Kicky, go down 13th and head back toward the interstate, not toward the river, so we can try to lose them! Cat, heads up, see if you can spot any copters overhead!”

The street was full of screaming people, and 13th Avenue was now blocked going both ways by lunch-hour traffic, cars that were simply abandoned and left standing by their drivers who jumped out and fled for cover.

“I’ll do more than keep their damned heads down, I’ll blow a few of ’em off!” Cat-Eyes Lockhart yelled back. He was out the back of the SUV and he swung himself up onto the roof of the vehicle in one smooth motion, snapped down the bipod on the .50-caliber Barrett, and sighted in. He pulled the trigger, flame vomited from the Barrett’s muzzle, a mighty roar echoed from the buildings, and up the street a SWAT man went flying back through the air, his feet leaving the ground. Lainie Martinez and Jamal Jarvis had struggled into their body armor and were now out on the street. Lainie kneeled and fired her M-16 and Jarvis stood over her, blazing away with his. Chief Linda Hirsch [Chechar’s interpolated note: the police chief was a coveted affirmative action three-fer, being simultaneously female, Jewish, and lesbian] was jumping up and down for a bit, then leveling her Armalite and firing a wild burst, then jumping up and down some more while she screamed dementedly in Yiddish. The street sounded like the inside of a garbage can or a metal locker that was being beaten with sticks by a troop of demented monkeys.

Wingo had ducked around behind the Escalade for more cover while he slapped another magazine into the Kalashnikov, another of the taped-together clips. He slung the weapon, pulled a hand grenade off his belt, and then winding up like a baseball pitcher he hurled it up the street where it bounced off several car roofs and rolled down into the street, the blast hurling shrapnel and shaking the street. Then he did the same with a second grenade. The police all hit the ground or dove for cover. Wingo then recovered the Kalashnikov and started firing again. On the roof, Cat Lockhart also slammed a new magazine into the .50-cal rifle, rose calmly into a kneeling position oblivious to the police bullets whizzing around him like electrons, and resumed firing. Just then the CNN crew, who had been cowering behind the overturned UPS truck, decided that it was time to do their jobs.

They ran along Flanders Street and turned right into 13th Avenue, the cameraman braced his camera on top of a parked car, and Cassie Ransome started shouting a disjointed narration into her microphone, trying to explain to the satellite-uplinked studio and worldwide audience what was happening in front of her on a Portland street. The next twenty seconds of film footage eventually won Cassie and the cameraman Pulitzer Prizes. The video clip was shown all over the world for weeks, it became an integral part of the visual history of the Northwest War of Independence, and is still shown today in virtually every documentary made on the subject.

Linda Hirsch was hiding behind the Oak Harbor moving van, but every few seconds she would lean out, gibber, fire a one-handed burst with her M-16 that she held like a pistol, and vanish again. Lockhart had no idea who the fat babbling target was, but it annoyed him, and he was determined to hit it.

Kicky McGee was dazed, disoriented, and by now she was completely out of her mind with pain from her wound and from incandescent rage at the destruction of her whole life by these people. She staggered up the street, screaming wordlessly in a hoarse voice, her left arm and side soaked with bright red blood, her honey blonde hair streaming behind her. In her mindless rage she held the Glock pistol at arm’s length in her right hand, firing it blindly in the general direction of her tormentors, hitting nothing.

It was a confused scene, and actually pretty pointless and ineffectual. Nobody was hitting anything, and no one besides Lockhart was even aiming. But it looked cool as hell on TV, and in America, that was what mattered. By sheer fortuitous accident, what the CNN camera caught for twenty seconds—and twenty seconds is a long sound byte on TV news—was a perfectly blocked shot of stunning dramatic impact. In the far center right of the screen Kicky seemed to stalk up the street. She was firing blindly, howling like an animal in an unthinking spasm of rage and madness, but what the world saw was a wounded Valkyrie screaming her war cry and charging the enemy machine guns that splattered in round strikes all around her.

Cat Lockhart fired one last .50-caliber round, the one that smashed Linda Hirsch’s skull to fragments like an exploding melon, and then he whirled and made a spectacular Zorro-like leap from the back of the Escalade into the flatbed of the Chevrolet. Jimmy Wingo ran forward, grabbed the berserk Kicky around her waist and lifted her over his shoulder, then ran back and tossed her into the back of the pickup like a sack of potatoes, before jumping in himself. Thing One leaped back into the cab and the blue Chevy then roared off down Flanders Street on the sidewalk, knocking over sandwich-board shop signs and sending an espresso cart flying. At 14th Avenue they were joined by the Grand Prix, and both vehicles floored it out along Highway 30.

There was no pursuit. Almost all the mobile police in the city were surrounding Waterfront Park [defending the US Vice President] and no one was available or willing to organize any response. No one had even bothered to radio Delta Two team or any other police and tell them what was going on. From the time Kicky McGee slammed the Escalade into Andy McCafferty until the time the blue Chevy pickup departed the area with all five Volunteers, exactly seventy seconds elapsed.

“You saw?” asked Cat in surprise.

“You were on live, my man. You’re all over CNN and every other damned channel. I got to tell you, if that little gun bunny (*) in there ever wants a transfer, you send her down our way,” he said admiringly, nodding into the living room toward Kicky. “Looked like she was ready to take on the whole Portland police force single-handedly.”

“They ambushed us on Flanders Street, sir,” said Lockhart. “The whole thing stinks. I think they knew we were coming.”


_______________________

(*) Gun Bunny—Adolescent female Northwest Volunteer or associate of the NVA. A number of these young women distinguished themselves in combat, intelligence, and support roles during the War of Independence.

Chechar’s note: Every time I reread the lines of this blonde woman firing at her tormentors they move me almost on the verge of tears…

Categories
Christian art My pinacoteca

Il Penseroso

Cole_Thomas_Il_Penseroso_1845

Painting of the day:

Thomas Cole
Il Penseroso ~ 1845
Art of the Americas Building

Categories
Brigade (novel) Civil war Homosexuality

The Brigade excerpts, chapter XVI

by Harold Covington


“Things That Go Boom In The Night”


Covington in uniform
“The NVA [Northwest Volunteer Army] uses explosives in three basic situations. First off, when there is an economic or strategic or propaganda-related target that has to be physically destroyed, sometimes loudly and visibly in order to set an example.

The second instance in which we use bombing is against enemy armor and fortifications, like when we toss these primitive rockets and mortar shells here over the Bremer walls (*) and razor wire and give Daddy a kiss. This is where the good old IED or Improvised Explosive Device, otherwise known as the Baghdad Banger, comes into its own. Like some other NVA guys who are vets, I have the unusual experience of having been on both ends of an IED, and between the Muslims and ourselves, we have refined them down to an art form. Through the use of IEDs we make enemy troop movements dangerous and difficult to plan and execute, and in some areas of the Northwest, we have succeeded in more or less driving the police and the military off the highways completely, forcing them to fall back on helicopters. If we ever succeed in obtaining any shoulder-fired missiles or some other way to bring those birds down, Uncle Slime is going to be really fucked. I imagine that some of you guys are already familiar with the third way in which the NVA uses explosives. Anyone?”

“Booby-traps!” said Annette.

“You got it,” confirmed Pascarella. “Whenever it is physically possible, the NVA always booby-traps the scene of an operation before un-assing the area. Pascarella chuckled. “Okay, now, as to the practical aspect of assembling and detonating ordnance. Every explosive device consists of three basic components. There is the main charge, the dynamite or Semtex or whatever will provide the main blast. The key to blowing the enemy into smithereens and not yourselves is simple: you keep these three components disconnected until the last possible minute.

“The champagne of all insurrectionary explosives is still Semtex, which is now manufactured in a dozen countries as well as the Czech Republic where it was invented,” the lieutenant continued. Semtex is the charge of choice for big jobs when we can lay hands on it. It’s just about the most potent stuff available for our purposes. A pound of it can take down a good-sized house, a briefcase full can decapitate an office building, and in the rare cases where we want to go that distance, a car trunk full of Semtex can send an entire city block to the moon. Gelignite, jellied nitroglycerine, is actually a bit more powerful, but it’s not manufactured anymore and like I mentioned, the bathtub variety is dangerous to work with.”

“How about C-4, sir?” asked Eric Sellars.

“We do still get hold of some, but it’s actually a lot easier and simpler and more cost effective for us to load up on dynamite and TNT. Now—delivery. This is where you guys come in.”

The young Volunteers leaned forward. “There are car and truck bombs, of course,” Pascarella told them. “Sometimes that’s the only way. We do not want the streets of Northwest cities turned into Baghdad or the Gaza Strip. Our sharp-eyed lads in the sniper companies inflict more physical and psychological harm on the enemy than a hundred carbombs could do, and they do it surgically and with a panache that excites admiration among whites, not fear and loathing.

“Most bombing is specifically targeted against indoor installations, the object being to slip inside their defensive perimeters and hit them where they think they’re safe. Have any of you been asked to deliver a package yet?”

“I have,” said Kicky. “It was my first solo tickle. That faggot bookstore and sex shop downtown with the big cartoon character sign, Homer Erotica. The Red Baron himself made up my package. I was given a fake student ID, and I brought in a shoulder bag full of books on the poems of Sappho and the Joy of Lesbian Sex and all that crap. Each book was cut out, and it had a stick or two of dynamite inside.”

“Good job, comrade, and a typical day’s work for our parcel post,” responded Pascarella with a nod, impressed. “It is entirely likely that you other three will at one stage or other be asked to deliver a package. There is no mission in the Army that requires more courage, more cool-headedness, and more just plain balls, as well as the ability to think on your feet and be a better actor or actress than anyone in Hollywood, which this classy lady here seems to have. Each one of these missions is unique, and I can’t really prepare you for them except to say that you will be given full training in everything you are to carry, its risks and how to handle and use it.”

_______________

(*) Bremer Wall—Heavy concrete berm, portable and lowered into place by a crane, used by the Americans to fortify police stations, FATPO (Federal Anti-Terrorist Police Organization) barracks, Green Zones (federal headquarters), etc. Also used extensively by American occupation forces in conquered Middle Eastern countries.

Chechar’s note:

Just compare Covington’s views about homosexualism to Counter Currents’ constant promotion of an author that likes to post images like this one… and demand tolerance from the pro-white community!

Categories
Arcadia My pinacoteca

An evening in Arcadia

an-evening-in-arcadia-1843

Painting of the day:

Thomas Cole
An evening in Arcadia ~ 1843
Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford, CT, USA

Categories
Brigade (novel) Civil war

The Brigade excerpts, chapter XVII

by Harold Covington


“Taking Down Tinsel Town”


Covington in uniform
“Gentlemen, I don’t have to tell you that ever since the invention of the motion picture over a century ago, the movie industry has been the most completely Jewish field of private enterprise in the world, with the exception of international banking and the stock exchange. Even today, Yiddish is considered to be Hollywood’s second language. Literally so. It is spoken regularly on movie lots and sound sets, and in every office and casting department and boardroom. The senior executive office complex of every major production studio contains a private synagogue or chapel called a mincha, with one or more rabbis attached, as well as special glatt kosher catering facilities and kitchens. Entire boards of directors in Hollywood and also at their parent companies in New York sometimes hold Jewish religious services prior to meetings. Every crucial, non-technical job on the business and creative end of any major movie is either held by a Jew or is in the power of a Jew, from the studio heads, the producers and the directors, down to the scriptwriters, the casting directors, the agents, the accountants, and anything to do with the money. Even in areas that seem to be controlled by Gentiles, you will find that somewhere along the line during the process, Jews have crucial input and veto power. This control by the Tribe is pervasive and complete, and it extends into television as well, with the exception of two of the major cable networks, which are heavily Jewish in their senior personnel but are owned by consortiums of super-wealthy Protestant evangelical Christians of the Israel-worshipping persuasion, who are in their own way even more poisonous in their evil than the Jews themselves, because they have no excuse for turning on their own blood.

“I do not need to tell you of the terrible and largely irreversible damage that Hollywood has done to the white race and to Western civilization over the past century. For four generations, the international bankers and the corrupt politicians have committed unspeakable crimes against humanity, especially the war after war after bloody war they have plunged our people into for Jewry’s sake, but it is Hollywood and Hollywood’s mutant bastard spawn television that has made the white people of America and the world swallow these atrocities and actually support them with enthusiasm. It is Hollywood that has spent the past 50 years pushing every conceivable kind of perversion of body and mind down the throats of white people. It is Hollywood that has turned the loathsome practice of homosexuality into something cute and trendy, the subject for silly jokes, when it is in fact a poison of the very soul. It is Hollywood that has turned white women as portrayed on film into either mindless sex objects, or else degendered, masculinized, man-hating neurotics. It is Hollywood that has poisoned the minds and broken the spirits of generation after generation of white children who are now beyond recovery, and turned them into whiggers. The bankers have stolen our money. The federal government of the United States has stolen our lives and our freedom and soaked the earth with Aryan blood, spilled to save a filthy race of Asiatic parasites. But Hollywood has stolen our peoples’ minds and souls, and in some ways that makes Hollywood more evil to my mind even than the sinks of iniquity centered in New York and Washington, D.C. Comrades, we will go down to southern California, we will grip this monster by the throat, and we will cut its heart out!

There was a cheer from around the table; the men found the project to their liking. “At this point I’ll turn the floor over to Lieutenant Hill,” said Morehouse.

“Thank you, Red, and isn’t this a great audience in our studio tonight?” There was a chuckle from the assembled men. “I need to begin by explaining just what has precipitated this operation, which by the way, has been designated Operation We Are Not Amused,” said Hill. There was more laughter. “Obviously, any revolutionary movement within North America has to deal with the Hollywood problem at some point or other. It’s pretty obvious that barring some catastrophic event, the NVA [Northwest Volunteer Army] is here to stay as a permanent feature of Northwest life, and for us, to survive is eventually to win. The time has come for us to take our offensive for balance in the media right into the belly of the Beast.”

“Now we are about to start…” Harry Hannon interjected.

“But it’s not just simple fear that’s made Hollywood go a little easy on us so far,” Red Morehouse said. “I don’t want to get metaphysical, but Hollywood has always been the American ruling establishment with its heart on its sleeve, and southern California has always taken point in the culture wars, openly and brazenly, so you can read them like a book. And I can sense a deep and definite malaise. The Jewish and liberal establishment down there is not just afraid, they’re puzzled, disturbed, confused. They don’t know what to make of us quite yet. They’ve never seen white men act like this before—hell, no one in living memory has seen white men act like this before. Comrades, even if we were all wiped out tomorrow, the NVA has managed to achieve one incredible accomplishment, and something that for the entire century, no one ever thought was possible. We have reintroduced the gun into American politics, the ultimate fount of all law and political power.”

Morehouse smiled and shook his head in admiration. “For the first time since the Civil War, the United States of America no longer has a credible monopoly of armed force, and that fact has thrown the whole ruling élite in this country for a loop, unbalanced them. We’ve taken a hundred years of this shit from these people. No more! It ends now!”

“Who gets to be the hammer?” asked Tommy Coyle eagerly.

“Sorry, Tom,” said Morehouse, genuinely commiserating. “You and Harry are too badly needed up here with your brigades, and that goes for you battalion commanders as well. I’m afraid the reason you are here is because we’re going to need your help and your concurrence to cherry-pick your units. The actual hammering will be planned and organized by the Third Section, but the nails will be from Portland and the North Shore.”

“What will be your plan of attack, Lieutenant Randall?” asked Hatfield.

“The main strategic objective here is to neutralize the Hollywood movie and television apparatus as an effective weapon of enemy propaganda,” said Randall. “It is now such a weapon because of the Jewish control of these industries. We have to get the Jews’ hands off the levers of power and creative control down there as much as possible, not only by terminating individual hebes, but by establishing a credible deterrent sufficient to prevent those reptiles from producing dingo doo like those things there.”

Randall pointed to the scripts on the coffee table. “They have to know that even to contemplate producing an anti-NVA movie or television episode means bloody near certain death. We won’t be so much going after movie stars or actors themselves as we will be taking down the Jews who actually decide what movies and shows are made, and what their contents will be—studio heads, producers, directors, and screenwriters, and the moneymen. We have several objectives. First, to physically prevent these Jews from doing the dirty. A dead Jew can’t make an anti-white movie. Secondly, to create a psychological disincentive to make propaganda movies and telly for the Americans, since live Jews and liberals don’t wish to become dead ones. Finally, and this is a long-term goal, we want to demonstrate to the extensive Gentile community in the movie and television world down there that Jewish control of their industry, their money, their speech, and their creative talents is not some kind of perpetual, God ordained inevitability. We want to show them and the whole world that Jewish power can be broken, right in the heart of their own oldest and most cherished empire in this country.”

“In a way, we’re trying to show the stars and the genuine film artists down there the same thing we’re trying to show our own people here in the Homeland—that it is possible to resist, and that the enemy is not invincible.”


Chechar’s note:

Just compare Covington’s views about Hollywood to Counter Currents’ opposite views and leave a comment: either below, or in a recent thread.

Categories
Architecture My pinacoteca

The Architect’s dream

Cole_Thomas_The_Architect-s_Dream_1840

Painting of the day:

Thomas Cole
The Architect’s dream ~ 1840
Toledo Museum of Art in Toledo, Ohio

Categories
Brigade (novel) Civil war

The Brigade excerpts, chapter XVIII

by Harold Covington


“All The World’s A Stage”


Covington in uniform
“This will be the most significant mass assault on a Zionist target that the Northwest Volunteer Army has yet attempted,” said Hill. “It will also send an indelible message to the enemy and to the world, one that Hollywood is particularly able to understand. Do you remember the famous scene in The Godfather where the big Jew movie producer wakes up in the dawn, in his big mansion and his big bed with the silk sheets, and he looks over and he sees the severed head of his million-dollar race horse lying next to him in a bloody mess, and he screams and screams and screams and screams as the camera fades? That is the effect we are looking for in every sense of the word.”

“I remember the producer caved in and gave the Godfather what he wanted,” said Christina.

“Exactly. And why?” asked Hill. “The big kike, the Burger King, caved because he suddenly understood that he was dealing with people to whom his power, his money, his influence and his personal viciousness meant nothing. For possibly the first time in his life, the big Jew was dealing with men who weren’t afraid of him and all he could command, and who would accept nothing less from him than total compliance and submission. That is the message we want to send, not only to the big Jews who rule Hollywood, but also to the whole world. The power of these people is at an end. This tickle is going to be our equivalent of a big bloody horse’s head in the Jews’ beds. But there is more to the message we are sending even than that. We want all of white America to see, and to think: If ZOG cannot protect the cream of Hollywood’s élite, then they can’t protect anybody. If ZOG can’t protect the powerful Jews of Hollywood, then maybe it’s time we got onto the winning side. That is why it is imperative that we hit the Oscar ceremony itself, live and on camera.”

“Right, thanks to The Talented Mr. Ripley here, we have been able to score a few intelligence coups,” said Randall.

Hill sighed. “I want this to be as surgical as we can make it, and take out as many major influentials as we can, crippling the Dream Machine by decapitating its leadership and management. I don’t just want all these glitterati shitting in their pants when they hear machine guns as their bodyguards are hustling them out the emergency exits, I want them on the floor bleeding.”

 

LynchCoverChechar’s note:

Just compare Covington’s views about Hollywood to Greg Johnson’s opposite views and leave a comment: either below, or in a recent thread.

Categories
Brigade (novel) Free speech / association

The Brigade excerpts, chapter XIX

by Harold Covington


“A Star Is Suborned”


Covington in uniform
In the meantime Hill and Randall took the liberty of examining the bookshelves that lined the wall of the living rooms, containing not only books but an extensive collection of music CDs and movie DVDs. Hill always did this whenever he had the chance, since nothing helped better in his assessment of someone’s character than learning what that person read and watched and listened to. The woman’s literary taste ran toward the classics of drama, and weighty novels such as no one actually read anymore. The plays ran from the Elizabethan and Restoration dramatists such as Dryden, Webster, Ben Jonson, and of course the complete works of Shakespeare, on to the nineteenth century masters such as Chekhov, Strindberg, Ibsen, and Gilbert and Sullivan, with a couple of slim volumes of Eugene O’Neill, a tag end of modernity.

There were writers such as Dickens, Hawthorne, Trollope, Wilkie Collins, Thomas Hardy, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Balzac. Hill was delighted to see collections of Jules Verne and Arthur Conan Doyle’s historicals as well, his boyhood favorites. Her poetry library boasted Walt Whitman, Tennyson, and T.S. Eliot, but verged closely enough on political incorrectness so that Hill wondered why it hadn’t gotten her into trouble, since she also owned the legal but frowned-upon works of Rudyard Kipling and Ezra Pound. He was further surprised to see the outright legally banned works of the Australian poet laureate Henry Lawson, published by one of the pre-10/22 covert Party imprints, which might well have gotten her arrested if anyone had noticed it. The conspicuous absence of anything gay, lesbian, multicultural, and psychobabble-ish was almost as telling a point in her favor as was what was there. Her musical tastes were wide-ranging. There were CDs of Wagner, Mozart, Verdi, Tchaikovsky, Handel, numerous operas, Gregorian chants, the motets of Gesualdo, Celtic music collections, Russian chorals, Doc Watson and Appalachian shape-note singing. Randall looked at Hill oddly, both of them sharing an unspoken thought: a young white female with this kind of taste and education was almost completely unknown in their experience.

“Henry Lawson?” asked Charlie Randall, holding up the volume. She blushed. “I really need to put that away where no one can see it.”

Randall opened the book and found a passage, and quoted sadly,

“And it is our fate that we’ll wake too late
To the truth that we were blind,
With a foreign foe at our harbour gate
And a blazing drought behind!”

“Hard to believe that was written well over a century ago,” Randall sighed.

“Lawson had it too right, mate. Not knocking the Northwest Homeland, but it’s my own land I’d be fighting for if our people had listened to Lawson, or even possessed two brain cells to rub together.”


http://northwestfront.org/

Categories
Brigade (novel) Civil war Homosexuality

The Brigade excerpts, chapter XX

by Harold Covington


“Setting The Scene”


Covington in uniform
On the day before the Oscars, for the first time, Task Force Director’s Cut was all gathered in one place, a large private home with a green lawn and hissing sprinklers on 20th Street in Santa Monica. It was very risky, and some of the crew were on sentry duty and would be briefed later by their team leaders, but this was the most important operation that the Northwest Volunteer Army had undertaken to date.

“I’ll run the operation down for you from beginning to end,” said Hill. “Hit the lights please, somebody.” The lights dimmed and one overhead projector cast a floor plan of the Kodak Theater onto the wall, while a second showed the plan of the Hollywood Royale hotel. “The actual infiltration of the theater and the assault will be carried out by seven personnel. Red fire team will consist of Volunteers Lockhart, Wingo, and McGee. Gold team will consist of Volunteers Kolchak, Gauss, and Washburn. As always, comrades, the gods favor us. I’ve noticed that happens a lot since we decided to quit running around street corners holding signs and wearing silly costumes, and took up the gun.”

“Amen,” spoke up one of the Volunteers.

“We want a Mad Minute of Shock and Awe,” said Hill. “The maddest ever, because remember, this is going to be on live nationwide TV. Cat, you and Ron will both fire twenty well-aimed rounds apiece, and remember, after those two initial faggots for camera effect, you’re going for the Burger Kings, the Big Kikes. The grenadiers will throw both their grenades, one each as soon as the firing begins, and a second after approximately thirty seconds. They will also open fire on full automatic, into what will almost certainly be a screaming vortex of sheer madness, concentrating on the VIP circle in front of the orchestra pit. There will be no innocent parties down there. Anyone who rates a seat in that section is Hollywood up to their eyeballs, and guilty as sin. Ideally not one glitterati pig or bitch who sits down at one of those little Parisian café tables to pose for us unwashed masses in all their haute couture glory should make it out of that theater alive. But especially not Jews. Bear in mind what all this is in aid of, comrades.

Hollywood is possibly the greatest weapon the Jews have against our race, maybe even more powerful and dangerous in some ways than their control of the federal government and of international banking. Hollywood is the biggest leg of that unholy tripod, and we have to knock it out from under them.”

 

LynchCoverChechar’s note:

Just compare Covington’s views about Hollywood to Greg Johnson’s opposite views and leave a comment: either below, or in a recent thread.

Categories
Judeo-reductionism Kevin MacDonald

Auster / MacDonald

LarryAuster at VFR dinnermacdonald


In my stats page I am seeing that my previous post, which reproduced Kevin MacDonald’s most recent article, has been receiving at least some traffic from The Occidental Observer.

In the Addendum I have reproduced Lawrence Auster’s 1998 unpublished chapter that inspired MacDonald to write his positive recapitulation of it.

I have just read Auster’s piece, which is over eleven thousand words, and the following phrase caught my attention.

“The problem is that the Jews, in the absence of healthy majority resistance, have virtually made their sensibility the ruling sensibility of America…” [my emphasis]

Of course! The “monocausalists” who don’t see absolutely anything wrong with the white psyche ought to take heed how, in the last centuries, Muslims have indeed showed healthy majority resistances with regard to the subversive tribe within their Islamic nations.

Judeo reductionism aside, Larry Auster’s revelation is stunning insofar as it demonstrates that he has been conscious of the Jewish Problem all of these years of his blogging career since he wrote that unpublished book.

I hope that visitors of this blog find the time during this weekend to read the articles by MacDonald and Auster. Since it is practically impossible to comment in either of their sites, visitors are welcome to comment either here or in the Addendum.

Ex Gladio Libertas!
68 Anno Nostri Hitlerum