You should not beautify Christianity or try to dress it up: it has waged a war to the death against this higher type of person, it has banned all the basic instincts of this type, it has developed its concept of evil, of the Evil One himself out of these instincts—the strong human being as reprehensible, as ‘depraved’.
Christianity has taken the side of everything weak, base, failed; it has made an ideal out of whatever contradicts the preservation instincts of sound life; it has corrupted even the faculties of those natures that are intellectually most vigorous by teaching people to see the highest spiritual values as sinful, as deceptive, as temptations. The most lamentable example—the corruption of Pascal, who believed that his intellect had been destroyed by original sin, whereas it was actually destroyed by Christianity! —
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Siege, 42
Off my case
Don’t confuse this with the spectacle of the Right Wing joker who stages a press conference to announce the formation of a secret, underground guerrilla army. This only involves you and nobody else but you.
I’ve never been accused of being a paranoid individual, of imagining things which aren’t there. My desire to be aware of what the hell I’m doing and what’s going on around me precludes that. Earlier I wrote a segment entitled “Leaks” in which I partially delved into what I’m about to discuss, except then it was to demonstrate a different point. At that time I was concerned with the range and the limits of the System surveillance of ourselves.
This time, however, I want to discuss definite ways in which we can actually control and turn to our own use the things I revealed in “Leaks”. Every time I pick up one of those exposes of the Movement done by the ADL, etc., it appears to me as though they are invariably about three years behind the times as far as who’s who and what’s what. There can be no doubt that this constitutes for us an advantage in itself, however accidental it may be or unintentional on our part. Clearly it would seem that the desirable thing to do would be to take it upon ourselves, individually, to make sure that the gap in current, accurate information gets even wider.
Unless you are a publicity hound or an exposure freak, it shouldn’t prove too hard at all to leave an icy cold trail.
The point being that you can do a hell of a lot more in anonymity by way of things which count, than you could ever hope to do under any kind of official, or semi-official, scrutiny. It is never necessary to foolishly attempt to deny or otherwise disown the Movement or any part of it. Far from putting distance between it and yourself, that only amounts to another kind of “grandstanding” and draws more attention—the wrong kind of attention. Morally, politically, ethically, who gives a damn? Rather, it is in whether or not you are a person who bears a lot of watching. And too, whether or not you’re the type of person who demands to be watched.
The best example of this is the legal demonstration. There you are, in the middle of the spotlight in the middle of a country full of people who not only don’t give a damn but who also hate shit-disturbers. You might prove some kind of point which says something about yourself but you’ve done nothing which effects them… except to put them on notice, giving them something to wag their tongues about in bottomless ignorance. Morally, you may have accomplished something very significant but if it had been at any time a question of morals, we’d have won the Second World War.
Perhaps, at bottom, the sad fact is that it’s dangerous and counter-productive, as well as futile, for us to attempt to communicate in any way with the people of this country. When has it gained anything for us? Those who have come to us have done so because of some inner calling of their own. So it shall continue, I suspect.
Joseph Tommasi in 1975 declared the closing of the strategy of a mass movement and opened the way for the armed struggle. Have things been developing this way ever since or have they not? I merely propose to increase this division and intensify its development for the good of us all.
No stunts, no handstands, no fanfare. Instead, care and caution. Long range planning. When you strike, strike hard and strike deep. Play for keeps. But, always in the end, it’s a matter of greater steady mileage over intense but short bursts. Don’t attract needless attention.
Vol. XIV, #10 – October, 1985
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Why we are reproducing articles from Siege can be surmised: here.
Categories
Trust
Today I’ll post a 3,000-word obituary in Spanish in honour of my cousin who died this month.
Those who have been soliciting access to my private blog Hojas Eliminadas should know that I only grant access to those who have gained my trust.
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Siege, 41
There was no time to say goodbye
You can’t exist it the middle of an embryonic revolutionary movement and expect to live trouble-free indefinitely. We around here never did. At present if the System decided upon one, big midnight raid on all known Movement members, he’d probably make his bag with little difficulty and that is because we are nowhere nearly enough prepared defensively. But then neither are we properly prepared offensively and so Big Brother is not likely to be contemplating such a strike.
I’m speaking instead of the kind of situation where there exists the immediate threat of arrest and/or jail for a so-called “criminal violation” which on the surface would appear, legally and otherwise, to have no political connection. That, as all of you should be aware, remains our #1 threat individually as it has been for twenty years.
What would you do this minute if you were made aware that an arrest might be imminent? Not the kind of arrest that could be seen as the System vs. the Movement, but merely as the police against you. Would you, could you, leave your home, your family, immediately? Do you have dependable transportation readily available? Do you have safe accommodations nearby which you can depend on without notice? Do you have safe accommodations out of state which are likewise dependable without advance notice?
How about out of the country if necessary? Do you have lines of communication back home which can act as your eyes and ears in your absence? Do you know which foreign governments—and how to approach them—might offer aid and sanctuary should you have to depart permanently? Could you and would you go if you had to? Or would you be caught flat-footed, paralyzed by terror and indecision, without instant recourse?
If your answer to any one of these questions, except the last one, is “no” then I suggest that you take steps to correct the situation while you still can. Your liberty may depend on it. Forget a glorified, dramatized guerrilla war in which hundreds or thousands are involved. In more or less “normal” times, could you, on a one-to-one basis, evade the damned police if you had to? Just pick up and go on a few, precious moments’ notice??
If not, you’re living under a deadly disadvantage and possibly fatal handicap. We were suddenly faced with this very thing here and managed to pass the test. Our lines of communication discovered afterward—once we were out of reach and safe—that the situation was one which could be controlled or at least looked to be a decent enough gamble and not a one-way ticket to Who-Knows-Where. We’re back in the saddle now and making our moves.
Whatever the outcome of that, it afforded a priceless and 100% realistic “dry run” for what can happen in life under a police state, in life in the reality of revolution, and not the fantasy of books. I urge all of you to think about it. Then act.
Vol. X, #6 – June, 1981
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Why we are reproducing articles from Siege can be surmised: here.
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Siege, 40
Leaks
Paranoia is an insidious thing and must rank as one of the top two or three causes for the complete failure of racialist organization. Paranoia is most often thought of as seeing things which aren’t there (infiltrators, “Jews”, etc.), but it has one residual effect of not seeing things which really are there. We’ve all seen the instances of the racialist, “Right Wing” type who sees—and often goes on to create—an enemy in one or more Movement comrades, but who falls blindly into government traps.
A genuine leader type can, and will, override all human foibles and deficiencies and go on to wield an effective organization. In spite of surrendering to individual weaknesses, he will exploit strengths and talents. The trick is that he himself must be smarter or made of better stuff than those he is trying to manage. Hitler was one. Rockwell was another. Hitler originally titled his autobiographical master-work as a “Struggle Against Lies, Stupidity, and Cowardice”, thus almost surrendering to the temptation to lower oneself to the negativism which, admittedly, abounds. Fortunately, Hitler thought better of it in the end and gave us instead Mein Kampf. Commander Rockwell publicly inveighed against Right Wing divisiveness and privately complained about how it was eating up far too much of his time and energy and preventing the Party from growing into what it should, and could, have become during his life and under his leadership. But he stayed on the road and in the public eye, hard at work building the political organization despite all.
Today what passes as the Movement lies at the total mercy of unbridled paranoia reaching back for an entire decade. Times and strategies have changed, or have had to be changed to face present realities, and I’ve often enough in the past labored long over most things of an hallucinatory nature which have ripped the Movement into shreds. Now perhaps is the time to discuss some of those things which are quite real but have done almost as much damage simply because Movement adherents have been too occupied with the unreal.
The real threat to radical political organizations is always from government sources. After all, is it not the fear of the presence of government agents which leads to (or provides excuse) for those paranoid ones to label this or that hapless person an agent provocateur? But for every ten persons so accused, only one turns out to be the real thing. And that is if he is ever “uncovered” as such. Most of the time, these agents simply gather their information and then disappear as quickly as the came, with no harm done. I’ve known the company of quite a few.
The really classic example of an agent provocateur is in fact the one which only appears in the rarest of cases. He’s the one who, through his skill and your carelessness, gets you and your associates locked up, injured, or killed. These agents are distinct from simple informants because they actually engineer things which otherwise would never happen. Commander Rockwell often said that both an idiot or an agent can get you just as dead or just as locked up. But if you can’t determine the difference between the two, then be assured, you’d be better off not aspiring to any Movement leadership.
The leaks which I’m talking about are not our leaks, that is, any holes in our security such as it is, but rather their leaks… leaks in the secrecy of their blanket surveillance of us and leaks in the effectiveness of it. Agents do exist and if you stay at this long enough, active enough, you will run into your share of them. But regardless who you are and what role you may play in the Movement, if your name so much as appears on a mailing list, then you too are part of this “blanket surveillance” which extends over all the rest of us.
About 1970 I was at a party in a rural county south-east of here, attended by a group of young persons of about my age at that time (eighteen years). One of them was the son of neighbors of ours down the country road where we’d moved from the city. After a few drinks, he approached me with, “How come the FBI is after you?”. I told him I hadn’t been aware that they were after me, whereupon he stated that two agents had been by his home and had asked certain questions about me of his parents. Questions pertaining to certain nocturnal gatherings being held on my grounds lately and being pretty well-attended by locals. I assured my friend that everything was all-right and laughed to myself at the idea of the FBI concerning itself over earlier drinking parties I had hosted, and which were made up of practically the identical cast that was present that evening. This, to the FBI, was a “Nazi Rally” if I was the one hosting it. Wouldn’t the guests have positively crapped had they but known?
In 1975, when I first emerged from six months in jail (having been convicted of a “criminal” charge as this country “has no political prisoners”), I sent for and obtained my FBI file. At that time it amounted to a mere fifty pages but it was notable that it extended back into my high school days, with information having been supplied by former “friends” and associates as well as parents of same, and amounting to no more and no less than hearsay and rumor. 1975 was also the year I broke from the former national Party and became active in my own right. Three years later, in 1978, I again requested my updated FBI file and was told that it now amounted to 2,500 pages. Fifty pages accumulated from 1966-1974 (including three years off and on at National Headquarters), and 2,500 pages from 1975-1978. That tends to speak for itself except that the vast bulk of what was contained in those pages is useless garbage, and again, rumor. (Specifics, such as the identities of agents, informants, etc., were blacked-out but, by reading “around” the omitted parts, one had no difficulty in determining who the informants were.)
During 1974 the Ross County unit of the Party was engaged in a legal fight to secure the country’s first openly Nazi booth at a county fair. With the help of the ACLU, we succeeded in doing just that. As this is a small town and “things like that just don’t happen around here”, the air was tense that entire summer. I recall one evening picking up my telephone to make a routine call, first to hear no dial tone and, next, to overhear open-ended conversation in the background. Conversation which, after a few moments of listening to, was determined to be originating from Chillicothe City Hall and Police Station! And at about that same time came the incident after I had cashed a few minor checks from Party headquarters at my customary bank for the purchase of licenses necessary for the fair booth, etc., when the rumor came back to me that I was “being bankrolled by the Nazis”. If only it could have been true!
It was during about 1977 that I received in my P.O. box a letter from the secretary of a California comrade, a major Movement leader at that time. The envelope was unopened, there was no return address save for the postmark itself, and the only things correct in the address were my name and the State of Ohio. The box number, the name of the city, and even the zip code were all wrong—not even close. Yet the letter made it to me all safe and sound. Rod Serling, move over!
Then there have been certain actions here locally which, had the police but intervened in them, could have put myself and a few others away on some heavy charges. These involved matters ranging from the illegal to the quasi-legal, but which contained too many legalistic, red-tape complications to be comfortable with in any case. Some had to do with planned physical attacks in broad daylight in public, while others involved forays into surrounding counties to spread the revolutionary word, and involving trespassing, minors, etc. (We were told that these cities’ police departments requested of the one locally to please either stop us from doing this or at least tip them as to when we were on our way. They failed to do either.)
There was the flight I had to make from Ohio in 1981 when a warrant for my arrest appeared imminent. There was no difficulty in getting out. Evidently, they weren’t watching closely at these times… Or else they didn’t want to move until they felt sure they could put me away for good.
More recently, I was told by an amused ex-girlfriend last year that, during the course of a conversation at a social gathering attended by herself and some local attorneys, etc., plus one out-of-state government man, it was dropped by this out-of-towner that there was one local name on his list of “dangerous persons” to watch: mine. And, presently, there was a call from one ex-associate about a month ago to the effect that I was “about to take a fall”. According to him, rumors emanating from sources both official and private—were too many to be ignored. Illegal possession of certain material was at bottom. He advised me to get rid of it if, indeed, it existed at all and I assured him, “No problem”. (And, to date, no raid.)
With the single exception of the last account, none of the above was ever, at any time, discussed over the telephone, through the mail, or with any person not immediately involved with the issue at hand. (And persons involved were kept to a strict minimum.) As Commander Rockwell advised in his masterful Legal, Psychological & Political Warfare, you must assume that you are being watched and listened to at all times and proceed to act accordingly because, in effect, you are! The degree and intensity of this surveillance rises or falls hand-in-hand with the degree of revolutionary political activity you maintain. Mine has been pretty intense in the past but I have always found there to be “leaks” aplenty in Big Brother’s fearsome apparatus; leaks in his supposed steel wall of covert secrecy; leaks in his supposed air-tight coverage of everything we say and do.
Most importantly, these leaks can be anticipated and even engineered by you for revolutionary advantage if only you discipline yourself and rid your mind of deadly paranoia which, far from “protecting” you from Big Brother’s agents, actually does about eighty percent of their work for them!
Vol. XIII, #12 – December, 1984
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Why we are reproducing articles from Siege can be surmised: here.
Categories
Julian, 33
Julian presiding at a conference of Sectarians
(Edward Armitage, 1875)
Libanius: Yes, I do know. At the beginning, we all had great hopes for Gallus. I recall vividly Gallus’s first appearance before the senate of Antioch. How hopeful we were! He was indeed as handsome as men say, though that day he was suffering from a heat rash, as fair people sometimes do in our sultry climate. But despite a mottled face, he carried himself well. He looked as one born to rule. He made us a most graceful speech. Afterwards, I was presented to him by my old friend Bishop Meletius.
“Oh, yes,” Gallus frowned. “You are that teacher-fellow who denies God.”
“I deny God nothing, Caesar. My heart is open to him at all times.”
“Libanius is really most admirable, Caesar.” Meletius always enjoyed making me suffer.
“I am sure he is.” Then Gallus gave me a smile so dazzling that I was quite overwhelmed. “Come see me,” he said, “and I shall personally convert you.”
A few weeks later, to my surprise, I received an invitation to the palace. When I arrived at the appointed hour, I was shown into a large room where, side by side on a couch, lay Gallus and Constantia.
In the center of the room two nude boxers were pummeling one another to death. When I had recovered from my first shock at this indecent display, I tried to make my presence known. I coughed: I mumbled a greeting. But I was ignored. Gallus and Constantia were completely absorbed by the bloody spectacle. As the world knows, I hate gladiatorial demonstrations because they reduce men to the level of beasts—and I do not mean those unfortunates who are forced to perform. I mean those who watch.
I was particularly shocked by Constantia. It was hard to realize that this bright-eyed unwomanly spectator was the daughter of Constantine the Great, sister of the Augustus, wife of the Caesar. She seemed more like an unusually cruel courtesan. Yet she was distinguished-looking in the Flavian way-big jaw, large nose, gray eyes. As we watched the sweating, bloody men, she would occasionally shout to one or the other, “Kill him!” Whenever a particularly effective blow was dealt, she would gasp in a curiously intimate way, like a woman in the sexual act. Constantia was most
alarming.
We watched those boxers until one man finally killed the other. As the loser fell, Gallus leapt from his couch and threw his arms around the bloody victor, as though he had done him some extraordinary service. Then Gallus began to kick the dead man, laughing and shouting gleefully. He looked perfectly deranged. I have never seen a man’s face quite so revealing of the beast within.
“Stop it, Gallus!” Constantia had noticed me at last. She was on her feet.
“What?” He looked at her blankly. Then be saw me. “Oh, yes,” he said. He straightened his tunic. Slaves came forward and removed the dead boxer. Constantia approached me with a radiant smile. “How happy we are to see the famous Libanius here, in our palace.” I saluted her formally, noticing with some surprise that her normal voice was low and musical, and that her Greek was excellent. In an instant she had transformed herself from Fury to queen.
Gallus came forward and gave me his hand to kiss. I got blood on my lips.
“Good, very good,” he said, eyes unfocused like a man drunk. Then without another word, the Caesar of the East and his queen swept past me and that was the end of the only private audience I was ever to have with either of them. I was most unnerved.
During the next few years the misdeeds of the couple were beyond anything since Caligula. (Editor’s interpolated note: Although Vidal was anti-Christian, he did not know that the Christians falsified the biography of Caligula.) To begin with, they were both eager for money. To further her political objectives Constantia needed all the gold she could amass. She tried everything: blackmail, the sale of public offices, confiscation.
One of her fund-raising attempts involved a family I knew. It was a peculiar situation. When the daughter married an extremely handsome youth from Alexandria, her mother, an ordinarily demure matron—or we all thought—promptly fell in love with him. For a year she tried unsuccessfully to seduce her son-in-law. Finally, he told her that if she did not stop importuning him, he would return to Alexandria. Quite out of her mind with rage, the woman went to Constantia and offered that noble queen a small fortune for the arrest and execution of her son-in-law. Constantia took the money; and the unfortunate youth was executed on a trumped-up charge. Then Constantia, who was not without a certain bitter humor, sent the matron her son-in-law’s genitals with a brief note: “At last!” The woman lost her mind. Antioch was scandalized. And the days of terror began.
At times it seemed almost as if Gallus and Constantia had deliberately studied the lives of previous monsters with an eye to recreating old deeds of horror. Nero used to roam the streets at night with a band of rowdies, pretending he was an ordinary young buck on the town. So did Gallus. Caligula used to ask people what they thought of the emperor and if their answer was unflattering, he would butcher them on the spot. So did Gallus. Or tried to.
Unfortunately for him, Antioch—unlike early imperial Rome—has the most elaborate street lighting in the world. Our night is like the noon in most cities, so Gallus was almost always recognized. As a result, the praetorian prefect of the East, Thalassios, was able to persuade him that not only was it unbecoming for a Caesar to rove the streets at night, it was also dangerous. Gallus abandoned his prowling.
During Gallus’s third year as Caesar, there was a famine in Syria. When the food shortages at Antioch began, Gallus tried to fix prices at a level which would make it possible for everyone to buy grain. Even wise rulers from time to time make this mistake. It never works since the result is usually the precise opposite of the one intended. Grain is either held back from the market or bought up by speculators who resell it at a huge profit, increasing the famine. Men are like this and there is nothing to be done about them.
The senate of Antioch has many faults, but its members are sound businessmen with an understanding of the market which is their life. They warned Gallus of the dangers of his policy. He ordered them to obey him. When they continued to resist him, he sent his own guards into the senate chamber, arrested the leading senators and condemned them to death.
Antioch had reason to be grateful to both Thalassios and Nebridius, the Count of the East. These two brave men told Gallus that if he went through with the executions, they would appeal to Augustus and demand the Caesar’s removal. It was a brave thing to do, and to everyone’s surprise they carried the day. Gallus released the senators, and that was the end of the matter.
For some months Antioch was relieved to know that in Thalassios the city had a defender. But then Thalassios died of fever. Of course it was rumored that he had been poisoned, but I happen to know that it was indeed the fever that he died of, as we shared the doctor. But I do not mean to write the history of Gallus, which is so well known.
Or
Combating the ultimate meme: God
In the chapter ‘The Battleground of Demons’ Nixey wrote:
But however alarming the demons of fornication may have been, the most fearsome demons of all were to be found, teeming like flies on a corpse, around the traditional gods of the empire. Jupiter, Aphrodite, Bacchus and Isis; all of them, in the eyes of these Christian writers, were demonic.
In sermon after sermon, tract after tract, Christian preachers and writers reminded the faithful in violently disapproving language that the ‘error’ of the pagan religions was demonically inspired. It was demons who first put the ‘delusion’ of other religions into the minds of humans, these writers explained.
It was demons who had foisted the gods upon ‘the seduced and ensnared minds of human beings’. Everything about the old religions was demonic. As Augustine thundered: ‘All the pagans were under the power of demons. Temples were built to demons, altars were set up to demons, priests ordained for the service of demons, sacrifices offered to demons, and ecstatic ravers were brought in as prophets for demons.’
Let’s return the favour.
The worst mistake that the white race has made is to have drunk the hemlock of the Bible. The Torah may be good for the Jews insofar as it teaches them ethnocentrism for the Hebrews and the genocide of the gentiles. But the Gospel is fatal to whites insofar as it teaches them to indiscriminately love the Other. The Torah added to the Gospel results in the Biblical United States and in Neochristian Europe. The suicidal standards of values of the philo-Semitic US and the secular EU are exactly the same.
In order to break the spell of the axiological hypnosis of the West, we must comply with the sixth article of the ‘Law against Christianity’ by Nietzsche:
§ 6 — The ‘holy’ history should be called by the name it deserves, the cursed history; the words ‘God’, ‘saviour’, ‘redeemer’, ‘saint’ should be used as terms of abuse, to signify criminals.
This initiative of mine, taking Nietzsche’s law seriously as payback for what the Xtians did (cf. Nixey’s quote above), reminds me of something I read in Siege. James Mason said there was a quantum leap from what Rockwell preached—the well-meaning but mistaken commander who placed the Nazi flag side by side the American flag—and the revolutionary proposal. But while Mason realised that the American government must be overthrown through armed revolution, he did not depart from the religion of those who precisely form the American government.
The real breakthrough in my opinion lies in rebelling against the ultimate meme: the idea of God. And that can only be done with a counter-meme: using the word ‘God’ as an insult, as it is obvious that for the Western mentality ‘God’ means nothing else than the god of the Jews.
I came to these conclusions after reading the recent transcript of the first podcast of this site, ‘Christianity is White Genocide’. More than what Linder said I liked what Walsh said. But even in what he said, that it was unclear if God existed, there is a residue of the brainwashing, as it is obvious that the god of the Jews doesn’t exist.
That same residue persisted in the philosophes of the Enlightenment. Not being Jew-wise, d’Alembert, Diderot, Hume, Kant, Montesquieu, Rousseau, Condorcet, Voltaire, Benjamin Franklin and others did not understand the psyop that monotheism represented for Europe. Some of them even transformed the god of the Jews into the nebulous god of the deists but never dared to insult the very idea of ‘God’.
Had the so-called Enlightenment understood the ultimate meme, which reminds me of what Heisman✡ said in some of the twelve entries I recently devoted to his book, they would have developed the sixth article of Nietzsche’s law ever since:
§ 6 — The ‘holy’ history should be called by the name it deserves, the cursed history; the words ‘God’, ‘saviour’, ‘redeemer’, ‘saint’ should be used as terms of abuse, to signify criminals.
Anti-Christian German Nazis and William Pierce are dead. It seems sad to me that no one has taken Pierce’s torch in North America at the moment. Or maybe I’m wrong. From the strictly geographical point of view I am in North America. But it is still sad that no native English speaker has realised that they have to fight the ultimate meme of the Jews, the haughty idea of ‘God’, monotheism: that the god of the Jews is the only god that exists.
Categories
Siege, 39
Cooler heads
With even the most minor experience within Movement circles and activities, you yourself will probably be—in any given outside situation of a tense nature—the coolest head present. Whenever the situation does become heated or aroused in any way, never assume that other “cooler heads” will prevail—for to do so runs the risk that the problem may escalate out of control with you being right in the middle.
Never forget the number one priority of any revolutionary: to maintain; to survive at all costs.
We can’t allow ourselves the luxury of common anger and the resultant outlets that such anger inevitably seeks and finds. If there’s no clear-cut advantage to any potential conflict, then stay out of it, head it off, avoid it absolutely. Suicide pacts are of no use. Policies of mutual destruction are only feasible where huge resources exist. Punitive measures are currently an unaffordable expense for us.
It is a mistake of the most childish sort to abandon the greater, higher goal, in favor of pursuing some momentary thing involving some practically meaningless sidetrack. Whatever move you make, whether it involves punishing, leaving alone, or even rewarding any person or any thing, make sure that it is so calculated that it is you and the Movement who will ultimately profit from it. And it matters not whether you apply any one of the three options to situations where spur-of-the-moment emotion might want to apply another, just so long as you do not shoot yourself in the head but rather emerge the final beneficiary of your own decision.
It is here where SUPREME SELF-DISCIPLINE is demanded.
For the young revolutionary Movement, the old concept of the “Mexican standoff” should become well understood. Whenever tangling with equal or superior force over some tributary or even lesser matter, you should consider yourself to be “batting one thousand” if you can walk away from the situation alive, free and intact. Not to mention with the added experience which has cost you nothing. That is a definite victory of sorts. The “Mexican standoff”, therefore, is about the best we, in our limited and tedious position, can hope for. We must learn to be able to base all decisions and actions accordingly—to our own benefit.
The time for chest-thumping, false theatrics, and heroics is past. We must act prudently and wisely in each case henceforth if we are to be around and in the position to exercise GENUINE HEROICS when the actual day for them arrives. We must continue to survive until that day.
Be assured, cooler heads will prevail. It is up to you to make certain that the cooler head belongs to YOU.
Vol. XIII, #7 – July, 1984
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Why we are reproducing articles from Siege can be surmised: here.
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Transcript
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Heisman’s suicide note, 12
Editor’s note: This is the hatnote of the blogger Eximius, presenting eight pages of still another Heisman chapter on how ‘Normanity’, the historic English belief in the superiority of those descended from the Norman conquerors, affected the Anglo-Saxon psyche, including the US:
This is an excerpt from an online eBook by Mitchell Heisman called Suicide Note. It is taken from pages 1601-1609. The title of this subchapter heading is counter-intuitive, along with perhaps the title of his whole book, as the Suicide Note could be taken to represent the Suicide not just on an individual, but of an entire biologically determined nature (of which white European suicide and consequent genocide by opportunistic aliens is a subset). His predictions may be strange but his analysis of the evolutionary history of liberal democracy are fantastic. I implore people to have a good look through his eBook for the merit that it deserves, as it operates at a very broad spectrum that cross pollinates between otherwise irreconcilable world views.
Read it all: here.