As you might imagine, within our ranks much discussion is lent to the topic of times-tables. Uncharacteristic of my English heritage, I am not sufficiently dour in this approach. I do not subscribe to the Doomclock that many set their watches to. Neither do I believe any of us will live to see a proper victory of faith. Nor do I believe this encapsulates a Black Pill.
I try, best as I might, to hold onto facts of life. In a recent comment on a recent post, someone illustrated in pointed and accurate lingo much of the problem we face. I responded that we have esoteric and exoteric vectors of response, and as such I would like to outline some thoughts which have festered in the corners of my mind for a few years now.
First of all, I know several men adamant that we will not leave our children this struggle. I have never subscribed to this method of thinking. The struggle is eternal. There is no final solution, for all life is struggle. A life without struggle is a life unworthy of living. The only examples of life without warfare are fantastical representations of the often feverish imaginings of scholars whose motives and biases are laid bare before the discerning eyes of their readership – assuming their readership has wit enough to read between those sacral lines.
How many times have struggles been won and lost through victory? A rather splendid example is the so-called Great War. The “victorious” Allies smashed Nazi Germany. Oo-rah. What did we win, again? I do believe that we laid claim to a perverted ideal of freedom, which was forced as gavage into the throats of supine Nations who hate us ‘for our freedoms,’ at least this is the common cope. Our freedoms? Yes. We are free to be licentious. We are free to plump the depths of vulgarity, to push the envelope of decency.; and we are free to punish those who would cling to such arbitrarily quaint notions as decency, strength and honour. Free indeed, and charmed I’m sure.
The very moment (and this occurred years before) that the civilised Nations of Europe were connived into fratricidal barbarity, was the very moment each lost their rite to Nationalism. America is no different, and we have the distinguishing honour of serving as a ground zero for the very thing that most of us reading hate. Now I suppose that agents of the Enemy may read this, oh yes, and I suppose I should be flattered that little old us present enough interest to be studied.
So here we are. The Victors having lost the World; to a war that before long no one alive will have ever fought in. And what? It is time to move on. The struggle continues. The path to victory is not so clear, is it reader? Without ZOG to force-feed you a line, all those European wars seem silly and stupid. You have woken up to a broader struggle.
You have a tapeworm.
Now you love your kind, and you want the best for your Race. This has earned you an uncomfortable knowledge that at any moment the Enemy might bring the hammer down upon your head. It could be the ban hammer, and it could be the hammer of a gun. The future is certainly uncertain.
No father worth his weight in testicular fortitude would ever wish the truths we find self-evident upon the fruit of his lover’s loins. That man would be a coward. But want is irrelevant in this struggle. There is duty, and there is enlightenment.
The price of freedom was eternal vigilance. However the Enemy clouded the sights and broke the scope, now we scatter into disarray like mongrels out of Babel. We know the score, and in our gut we also know what must be done.
Egotism has no place in our struggle. The cult of personality has been a curse for longer than the thinking man care reckon. I can tell you, and you could trust me, but you should also know by now on your own merit that this is true. Strong leaders do not pander to their merest visions, nor do they impose. They facilitate what is there, or else they do not lead, they simply create. This has been the downfall of many an organisation, this has been the betrayal of many a promise. As the march goes on, the results become increasingly embarrassing. If you do not agree, you need lurch no higher than to stand upon a milk crate, leer into the trailer, and see cuckoldry in action. A disgrace.
Unity is noted as something we need, and this is true. One of the internal struggles within the Movement proper, which I have followed with interest and frustration, is the eternal conflict between Racial and Ethnic Nationalism; sometimes derisively labelled White and Petty Nationalism. White Nationalism represents, at least in our book, a Unity of Purpose. It is not a proclamation upon the backdrops of any individual. It is the logical assertion that a Frenchman and a German, have more in common with the Englishman and the Irishman, than any of them do the Nigerian or the Khazar, with the Mongol and the Innukchuk.
Unity does not, and can never mean a White globalism, in which everything was thrown in the blender. That was the first mistake and original sin of this country. Not the cooperation of Whites of differing background, but the attempt to mongrelise them by stripping the founding stock of their heritage, and equivocating them with tribes who were then foreigners. The American phenotype has never stabilised, and until leadership finally makes an official proclamation on Ethnogenesis, I shall maintain that White Americans still display obvious phenotypical markers owing their ancestral persuasion. What they more often than not lack, is cultural markers.
Race informs culture, but the reverse is true. Americans long ago, underwent a virulent transformation, in which a phenotype was attempted, in which the blood was robbed of soil. Now, where the American should firmly stand, is with the knowledge that he can lay down soil. We can complete our phenotype. This is one of the principle tasks of a concept such as a Männerbund.
There have been no shortage of political action groups. Indeed, in recent weeks to the writing of this article. Others have gone before, sure. I won’t list all of those I know.
Where most ran into trouble, was that insufficient energy was devoted to cultural and moral pursuit. The White Heart beats rectitude. If one spends time with our esoteric texts, righteousness and higher purpose motivate the Racial Spirit of White Folk, and breathe into the Folk Soul of every ethnicity. But each receives their gifts in accordance with their charism. I should know that the moral core of the Englishman is not the same as that of the Irishman. I should know that the moral soul of the German is not the same as that of the French. But each holds righteousness high, pursuing the same end with different means.
A Männerbund is in a unique position. In a sense it is free to take what it wants from the living corpse of the old orders. Is this macabre? Absolutely. But that doesn’t matter, it must be done. Pick and choose. In a way, they are free to chase a Destiny laid out by the Hand of Providence, unencumbered by the longstanding geasas of the old Nation States. And they must, Since we do not have the spine, the kundalini, or vril that the Nation States of Europe have. True, we have our regional developments; we have our states; and these roots must be defended at the same time that we use our given right to prune the tree as we see fit.
To do this we must acknowledge a simple fact. Nothing is going to be accomplished to outlast the generations, within a generation. All we are reading and writing, are stones set into a foundation. Was Rome built in a day? No. Eden was built in six, and look at what our greatest ally did with it.
Every single decision that everyone who reads this makes, must be weighed and levied in light of this fact. What we do echoes, for generations. What we fail to do, echoes for generations. We bear gifts, scars and echoes from the selfsame generations who built us, and we are to our progeny as they are to us. Remember this, that we shall be judged by our offspring.
So I come to the first of all. More important than flash in the pan, is turkey in the pot, and buns in the oven. Shows of force are good for rousing ire and making distinctions, but sustained change lies in your ability to predict and adapt to the changing of the wind. Your spectacle will be forgotten, or else weaponised in the course of a year. So, really, your greatest weapon is precisely this: your generation. For aeons, until we weren’t, our Kindred were all purveyors of fertility cults. The ancient European Nation Faiths all embraced metacultural metalanguage which in every aspect informed a zest for life. Now? You know the answer.
Let us look now to the Irish. Until they didn’t, the Irish had a power that came from numbers. The Irish, my people always noted, bred like bunnies. The Irish came to America in the second immigrant wave and did their thing. Today, among the American ethnic populations, the Irish by leaps and miles outbreed the English. For a long while the Irish did this with the full knowledge and consent of their traditions, and maintained an identity separate from the fabricated American one. This has changed, and the Irish are now little better than anyone, in this regard. They drink and fuck, and shit where they eat like anyone else. Now a real Irish will read that and find their hackles up. Good. Now if only I can convince my post-English, Anglo brothers to find their spines in like manner we will be ready to begin anew.
The point is that the Irish had a marvellous short term evolutionary strategy. They maintained a separate identity which often compelled them to stick with their own, combined with a general passion and zest for life, funnelled into a superior breeding pattern. Even when the Irish intermarried, their force of personality often impressed their host or hostess population. In a sense, it was that Irish influence which vastly changed the American landscape. Combined with their inclination toward subconscious nepotism, the Irish secured for themselves a great track of largely unadmitted power. Folk speak of Kennedy as the first Irish president, and that may be true, but if you look very closely at the names of American politicians, many have the green in their blood. That obviously lends weight to influence.
Now, in a sense, the Irish have a group evolutionary strategy not unlike that of the Jews, with the added bonus that the Irish, at least at one point, appeared to enjoy having children, whereas the Jew preferred hegemony to skin in the game. Imagine if you will, what an asset that group evolutionary strategy would be were it consciously weaponised in our favour?
The Fourteen (Sacred) Words are not a suggestion, man. One of the most tragic ironies I ever encounter is the Nationalist who refuses to breed because the world is so grim. But this, this is the weapon we have that cannot be resisted. Do you think the enemy will outbreed us? Perhaps in a laboratory the Bull Dyke guinea pigs and their Lipstick Lesbian playthings will breed an army of mentally unstable and spiritually retarded test-tube children, and Faggots galore will adopt an army of depraved future sex offenders. That may be true. But really, look at the breeding patterns of the neoliberal establishment. Forget R/K and press F for that arm of ZOG. It would be hard for the bulk of the common Enemy’s horde to really stop us from their fat bed, their scooter, or rehab clinic.
What we’re left with is the coloured hordes who have no problem breeding like bunnies. And they? They aren’t even an enemy, so much as capitol collateral. The saps think that they matter and their ‘culture’ has meaning. It would be sad if only our planet weren’t turned into a failed experiment on their behalf.
Cultural solidarity, combined with aggressive breeding patterns, are going to be what save us. Not spectacles or triumphs. Imagine if you will an entire generation raised with knowledge and intent, and not treated like components of ZOG’s entirely fake and gay social contract. These children, having the benefit of being born into a worldview, will grow up and strengthen what they have earned. The struggle that our failed forefathers have left us, the one we fail to dominate, will strengthen their resolve. The pendulum of history always returns. In rerum natura, the Latins said, an Eternal Return, Nietzsche reminded us. The sun rises, and unlike O’Reilly, we can explain it, but we cannot kill it. Best to embrace it.
Put away your vices. Give the Enemy back his cigarettes. Say no to the booze. Give up the energy drinks. Thrown down the controller. Life is in the living, and none of that benefits our life. Our life, not yours. You are no longer an atom, individualism is a pathetic lie. Embrace the bonds of brotherhood and help us build culture, because someday it will be yours. That is inevitable, this is the long march of history. The pendulum is approaching a reset, and the neoliberal establishment is approaching critical mass. Like these cultural arrangements do, they become too brazen and burn out their resources. Now since their resources are human capitol, they will demolish large tracts of the population in their continued decline. We shall remain, in some form or other. What form that is, depends largely on the preparations we make NOW, not tomorrow. Tomorrow is informed by today, anyway.
When Saul Alinsky wrote his very acutely terminal book, he did so with a clear mind and understanding of cascade preference. Do you think the Enemy poisoned the well in an instant? If the Germans had seen the arsenic pour down the well, there would have been a far different story. Rather, bit by bit, trash and refuse just happened to clog the well. Harmless things that over time did worse than the arsenic ever could. Poison outright is rejected, but the slow boil is a poison we in time invite.
So it went with Weimar, so it goes with us. Bit by bit the envelope was pushed, until the envelope opened and culture consumed content. When Alinsky’s goons infiltrated the world, they stood near to the bottom of their hill. We have traded places with them, from our vantage near the bottom of the barrel it is dark and grim, but we must realise that the fast solution has been tried and found wanting. It is civilisation which must change to accommodate us. This is done by outlasting and replacing the diseased and infected portions. The host will survive the lobotomies and amputations. In time, scars will heal, and we know scar tissue is more resilient than the original skin.
Our current predicament came about when rebellion against Natural Law was rebranded heroism. When indignity became righteous indignation. When all that is pathetic became an alternative lifestyle. Eventually degeneracy was enforced and now people choose that path because it is easier. Empty virtue signalling is preferred to integrity because that is what pays the bills. In short, people went with the flow because it was easier to play along to get ahead. But where this is increasingly not the case, people will flounder. It has happened before. There are cracks in the seemingly monolithic foundation.
Doubt in the neoliberal establishment is more than seeded, but confidence in alternatives is not. Clearly. What can we be doing to provide the rational alternative? We must be the longterm strategy. We must cooperate with the boots on the ground. We must appeal to those beyond the Pale. As the fruits of ZOG’s labour become more self-evident than the lie of equality, we shall by proxy shine like a beacon. It is why each Brother must present as well. We must be above reproach, conquering self before we speak of the other. We must have answers, entertain existential questions – we must supply those basic staples of Maslow’s Hierarchy, we must become what’s needed. Or, at the very least, realise we are what’s needed and act accordingly. It is in our hands, not theirs.
So, in a sense, we are like Hadrian’s Wall, whether you call us a Männerbund, Comitatus, Brotherhood – these are all terms of convenience. We were born for this. But more than us, in every literal sense, our children were born for this. This is the Long March. Your skin is in the game whether you like it or not. How long it is in the game is up to you.