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2nd World War Americanism Australia Kevin MacDonald

MacDonald reviews Gottfried

macdonald[Paul] Gottfried rejects much of the received wisdom on issues related to the German past. In “Germany’s War Wounds” he notes the hypocrisy of framing World War II as a moral crusade while ignoring the crimes against the German people. While England suffered around 21,000 civilian deaths from German bombing, over 600,000 German civilians died as their cities were bombed, with much of the carnage occurring after the war was effectively won and the cities were defenseless. Yet we have intellectuals like Christopher Hitchens stating that Germans who complain show “a combination of arrogance and self-pity tinged with anti-Semitism.” […]

Gottfried notes that the influence on England to completely break away from its past and become a multicultural society “patterned itself on American reforms and American visions.”

I strongly suspect that this is true throughout the West. Once America became militarily and culturally dominant in the post-World War II era and given the international and hierarchical nature of elite culture (particularly apparent in the academic world), it was only a question of time before other Western countries followed in its footsteps. One can only imagine the pressure that would be exerted on, say, Australia if it had retained the White Australia policy into the present. […]

In “The Managerial President,” Gottfried notes that “All the major conflicts into which our leaders thrust us from the Civil War on, with the possible exception of Viet Nam, are seen as morally desirable actions. … [These historians] have never been as anti-Communist as they are anti-fascist and Teutonophobic. … The U.S. is a land of morally driven, energetic presidents who have made us into the envy and dread of the world.” […]

The WASPs barely fought back, instead leaving the stage laden with guilt and groping for a sense of moral righteousness—traits that were deeply embedded in their Puritan ancestors and cynically exploited by their Jewish conquerors. As a result, we now have a Jewish-dominated elite that is far more corrupt and far less representative of the country than the previous elite, but whose power and motives (the latter rooted in a boundless hostility although often phrased as a love for humanity) are completely outside of the boundaries of acceptable public discussion.

No people can long survive when they become dominated by an elite that is hostile to them and their culture.

__________________

Read it all: here.

Categories
Degeneracy Lord of the Rings Podcasts Tom Sunic

Most recent interview of Sunic

A couple of days ago Kyle Hunt interviewed Tom Sunic: an interview that I’ve just listened. It strongly reminded me my most featured post in this blog today, “The Course of Empire,” a series of paintings that evoke both the fall of Rome and the ongoing fall of the American Empire: both caused by “gluttony” and the “inevitable decay” of the spirit of whites.

Surely there were Semites inside the confines of the Roman Empire. But ultimately the fault lies upon those Western Ring Wraiths, as Tolkien called those empty-eyed men: outer shells of their former selves “who command us to abandon our morals and artistic heritance in pursuit of the gold promised by the Ring.”

Who’s to blame: Sauron or us? Most white nationalists blame Sauron. But a few of them are starting to realize that the fault lies on those men who sold our culture and blood “for thirty pieces of gold to forge our own insignificant rings.” For example, in Hunt’s interview of Sunic this Monday, the Croatian thinker said during the segment dedicated to his parting words:

“Folks let’s stick together: Don’t blame the Other with a capital ‘O’: blame ourselves for all that we are now enduring and experiencing. Don’t blame those other guys. You know whom I mean. They are not responsible: it’s ourselves. It is our petty petty egoism, it’s our trivial disputes what’s hampering us in promoting our cause.”

Speaking of trivial disputes, just disregard the degenerate music chosen by the interviewer before the Sunic interview. 🙂

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Arcadia Architecture Degeneracy My pinacoteca

The Course of Empire

The Course of Empire is a five-part series of paintings created by Thomas Cole in 1833-1836. It reflected popular American sentiments of the times when many saw pastoralism as the ideal phase of human civilization, fearing that empire would lead to gluttony and inevitable decay.

The_Savage_State

The Savage State ~ 1834
New York Historical Society



The_Arcadian_or_Pastoral_State

The Arcadian or Pastoral State ~ 1834
New York Historical Society


The Consummation of Empire

The Consummation of Empire ~ 1835-1836
New York Historical Society


Destruction

Destruction ~ 1835-1836
New York Historical Society


Empire_Desolation

Desolation ~ 1836
New York Historical Society

Categories
Brigade (novel) Civil war Harold Covington

The Brigade excerpts, chapter XI

by Harold Covington


“Hearing the Screams”


Covington in uniform
“Dad, no need to dance around it. Jan’s decisions were just plain stupid. She was self-destructive, she had no sense of self-esteem and no inner strength. She let the whole adolescent angst thing get on top of her, she just went with the flow, and it killed her. She got involved with drugs, she got involved with a nigger, and she did both at once. If that’s not the classic definition of a self-destructive personality, I don’t know what is.”

Ray looked at her oddly. “The psychobabble I get. You picked that up from your mother and her hundred and one self-help books and fads, not to mention TV. But the racism is a new one on me. Where did that come from?”

“Where racism always comes from, Dad,” said his daughter calmly. “From close and regular contact with blacks.”

“Oh? And how many blacks do you have close and regular contact with at Ashdown Academy?” inquired her father. “Three? Four?”

“One was enough,” she replied coolly. “Look, Dad, can we take all the shocked disclaimers as read? Or to quote one of your own favorite sayings, don’t piss down my back and tell me it’s raining. I know what every white person in this country knows, even if they’re all too terrified to say it out loud. They’re not Africans-Americans, they’re niggers. They aren’t equal to us in any way, they never have been, they can’t tie their own shoelaces without an affirmative action program, and they’re not even very nice. Now, what did you want to say to me?”

Ridgeway looked at her, bemused. “Okay, fine, we’ll leave the deep political and philosophical debate on diversity and multiculturalism for another time. And yes, you’re right, we all know in the privacy of our own thoughts that when all is said and done, they’re nothing but niggers, and they won’t ever be anything else. But the fact is that society doesn’t allow that viewpoint anymore. I always thought of myself as pretty smart, but I’ll admit to you, I have no idea how on earth we have gotten to—well, where we are, but we have. The point is, Annette, and it’s the point I have to make sure you understand completely, is that whether we like it or not, we have to live in the real world. But Annette, I want you to promise me something. Dead serious, I want you to promise me that you won’t do anything stupid along that line.”

His voice was anxious. “I want you to promise me that you’re not going to try to contact this damned gang of racist psychopaths who are running around Portland murdering people and bombing things, and try to get them to kill this Flammus character!”

Categories
Arcadia My pinacoteca

The Return

Cole_Thomas_The_Return_1837

Painting of the day:

Thomas Cole
The Return ~ 1837
The Corcoran Gallery of Art

Categories
Brigade (novel) Civil war Harold Covington

The Brigade excerpts, chapter XII

by Harold Covington


“Are You In Or Out?”


Covington in uniform
“I’ve been thinking about it since I watched my sister’s coffin lowered into the ground,” said Annette bitterly.

“We both have,” said Eric soberly. “We’re young, but even we can see that things in America can’t go on this way. I laugh when somebody refers to us kids at Ashdown as privileged. Jan’s death showed us that all our so-called privilege won’t protect us against this—this filth, this madness, this—oh, this whole damned mess. We’re living in a toilet and eventually we’re going down the drain, one way or another. I don’t know what else to call it.”

“Don’t worry,” chuckled Wingo. “Greater minds than any of ours have spent their lives trying to describe the world we live in. Our job is to change it. One thing, though. I’m afraid for security reasons, which I’m sure are obvious to you, we need an answer right away. You say you’ve been thinking about it for a while, so you should be able to look into your hearts and know. Are you in or out?”

“I’m in if Eric’s in,” said Annette, looking at him. “I am willing to do whatever I have to do, but not be separated from him. We can’t have one of us in and one of us out.”

“Ditto,” said Eric firmly. “I’m in if Annette’s in, so I guess that means we’re both in.”

“You understand that if you become Volunteers, you may be separated anyway?” asked Wingo gently. “I mean separated bad, separated by death or prison or the just plain chaos and madness of war?”

“I understand,” said Eric with a nod.

“You will be given certain documents to read, and you will begin a training course that will teach you what you will need to know to fight to secure the existence of our people and a future for white children. Do you recognize that phrase?”

“Uh, no,” said Eric, shaking his head.

“Those are the Fourteen Words of David Lane,” said Schumaker gravely. “From now on, for the rest of your lives however long or short they may be, you will live by those words. And possibly die by them.”


http://northwestfront.org/

Categories
Harold Covington Kevin MacDonald Michael O'Meara Roger Devlin Thomas Goodrich Tom Sunic William Pierce

For your bookshelf

Not long ago my entry “Ten must reads” elicited some attention. Two things have happened since then: William Pierce’s last book has finally been published and therefore can be treasured in our bookshelves; and I have read a book that was not in my original list, authored by Tom Sunic (below, flanked with white margins), that I have been discussing in the previous entries.

march-of-the-titans-pinnacle

Pierce-book










3rd-book

Dwell-alone







brigade

Turnerdiaries-cover

homo-a







Roger Devlin’s is not included here only because it has not appeared in book form yet. I hope Devlin will get together his already published articles in The Occidental Quarterly and elsewhere to make them available in a single book cover.

Enjoy the reading!

Categories
Brigade (novel) Civil war Harold Covington

The Brigade excerpts, chapter XIII

by Harold Covington


“A Mouse In The House”


Covington in uniform
“They’re organizing some kind of special brute squad to invade the Northwest and deal with us hatemongers, Federal Domestic Terrorist Police or something like that. Apparently it will be kind of like the Black and Tans in Ireland a century ago. It’s still in the planning stage, but Mr. Chips was bringing us the word from the Army Council to start preparing tactical and strategic plans to deal with a big increase in fed boots on the street and a lot tougher tactics. I myself was there from Three sec acting for Colonel Redmond, and Tommy Coyle and Harry Hannon both there to brainstorm.”

“You had both brigade commandants and an Army Council member there in the same room?” demanded Bresler. “Jeez Louise, that was risky!”

“I know, but sometimes we just have to put our heads together and work out a tough problem, and this was one of those times. The meeting never actually got started because Harry hadn’t arrived yet.”

“A panel truck sounds like bugging equipment, though,” said Bresler. “They might have had shotgun mikes or some of that weird microwave satellite gear. Did you sweep everybody who came in?”

“Yes, Red came down with those two kids from Dundee he uses a lot, Shane and Rooney, and Tommy had a couple of guys with him. I did them all myself as they came in the door, and nothing popped. I know, they can listen in on people in a basement now from satellites in space these days. They have fiber-optic micro-bugs that are the size of a pin head, bugs that look like cockroaches and even scuttle across the floor, you name it. The old-fashioned wire stuck on some guy’s shaven belly with surgical tape is as outdated as the flintlock. Whatever it was, I can tell you that they didn’t seem prepared to move on us. It looks to me like some kind of observation stakeout. But how the hell did they know where to listen in?” Hill slammed his fist into his palm in frustration.

“So what do we do now?” asked Bresler.

“We take every one of those incidents and we review and analyze the hell out of them,” said Hill. “Once we’ve narrowed it down to a few suspects, then it gets tricky, because we will have to devise some bogus setups to entrap them and see if we can make some Portland cops show up on cue at a certain place and time. These are the kinds of things that you will have to find out, Gary, because I can’t without tipping everybody in the Battalion that there’s a rat around, and you know that whatever else happens, we do not want that to get about. Our morale is high, largely because so far we have been able largely to prevent infiltration of this very kind. Rampaging paranoia and mistrust can destroy the Second Battalion as a fighting unit just as effectively as any mass arrest. It can even seep out of the Second Battalion and infect other units, and we have to prevent that at all costs. This has to be handled quietly, efficiently, and above all quickly, before anyone else dies or ends up in the Justice Center torture chambers.”

Categories
Real men William Pierce

The philosopher on the hill

pierce


William Pierce was immensely deep and worthy, and I think we all loved him. But he was very much the lone philosopher on the hill, who bonds with his adepts one by one as they enter his mountain fastness, but whose urgent work and solitary contemplations leave little time for the laughter, feasting, and ceremony that might prevent rifts.

One Winter when my wife and I came to visit him, a couple of years before I made the move to The Land, Dr. Pierce was utterly alone with the ravens in his snowy hills. There was no one else there. There was no community. All who had come had left. And his membership list, he said, was at an all-time low. He was gaunt, and I don’t think he was eating much.

He spoke of the 1960s, when he had just begun his political work, sending a copy of his intellectual journal to every member of Congress and to hundreds of officials and opinion leaders in Washington—with exactly zero response. And, after an initial shock and readjustment to reality, exactly zero discouragement too. It had been then that he had thrown down his coat, put on his gloves, and begun those 18-hour days that continued until Infinity reclaimed him.

William Pierce had a never-give-up spirit that was almost beyond understanding. It served him well. Its source, I think, was his deep belief that he was one of a very few men who fully understood the cosmic stakes of the fight for White survival, and that he had an absolute responsibility to strive without ending, no matter what the odds, to do his considerable part—a task that no one else could do for him—to win that fight.

Those stakes went far beyond the concerns to which he often appealed in his writings and broadcasts. Far more important than safe neighborhoods and lower venereal disease rates and decent schools was the evolving consciousness of the Universe, of which a small but inseparable subset of our race was the vanguard, and which might be snuffed out in an instant of cosmic time if organized Jewry had its way.

Kevin Alfred Strom in 2012,
ten years after Pierce died

Categories
Brigade (novel) Civil war Harold Covington

The Brigade excerpts, chapter XIV

by Harold Covington


“Under New Management”


Covington in uniform
“My God, who are all these people?” Weinstein muttered to himself. “What is all this?” he asked, gesturing to a large map of the greater Portland area on a corkboard studded with black, red, green, blue, orange, and yellow pins, as well as one white pin.

“Black are NVA murders and red are bombings, which I’m sure you can figure out from the locations,” said Chief Hirsch. “Green are suspected arms dumps which we have under intermittent surveillance as much as our manpower allows, and as far as we can do without exciting suspicion and blowing cover. Blue are suspected NVA safe houses. Orange are the addresses of suspected terrorists, although those change all the time and we can’t guarantee their accuracy for more than a day or two. Yellow are reported sightings of the Jack of Diamonds Sniper, Jesse ‘Cat-Eyes’ Lockhart, who is a person of especial interest to us.”

Detective Andy McCafferty walked up to the board, with a sidelong glance at the FBI agents, and moved the white pin to a different spot on the board.

“What’s the white one?” asked Weinstein.

“That’s the present location of Sharkbait, our code name for the undercover,” said Lainie. “Her real name is Kristin McGee, her street name is Kicky, and her Volunteer name is Comrade Jodie. We have a GPI on her all the time, of course, as well as fiber-optic sound and occasional video monitoring, but we find that keeping her marked on the board gives an added perspective.”

“Nice code name for an NVA snitch,” chuckled Farley grimly.

“We like it,” said Lainie neutrally.

“How specific is your intel?” asked Weinstein, shaking his head. “For example, do you have any idea who killed Ambassador Whitman and his wife outside the Nordstrom department store in November?”

Andy looked at Lainie, who sighed and nodded her head. “Yeah, we know,” McCafferty told them. “That was Billy Jackson, Jimmy Wingo, and our girl. Actually, we have the whole hit recorded on digital audio.”

What?” shouted Weinstein in astonishment.

“You want to hear it go down?” asked McCafferty.

He provided two sets of headphones, and Weinstein and Farley sat with their jaws gaping while they listened to the soundtrack of the double hit and the subsequent ditching and booby trapping of the vehicle.

“My God, you’re years ahead of us!” muttered Weinstein.

“We got our shit together,” agreed Jarvis.

“I would like to point out that the audio clearly indicates the murder of the Ambassador was a crime of opportunity, and we had no chance to intervene…” began Linda Hirsch. “We’ve picked up a buzz that a high-ranking Army Council member is on his way down from the Seattle area, for a sit-down with the local warlords here in Portland to discuss the matter. This is one occasion when we can be reasonably sure that a lot of their heaviest hitters are going to be in the same room together somewhere.”

“Okay, tell you what, let’s just start at the beginning and see what we’ve got, and where we can go with it,” said Weinstein, literally rubbing his hands together in sheer delight at the prospect of hurting the hated anti-Semites and at the same time salvaging his slipping reputation at the Justice Department in Washington.

“We’re going to drop the hammer on these racist bastards. Here and now, tonight.”


http://northwestfront.org/