Powerless

The plight of the Palestinian people has caught fire in our circles recently.

Whether or not you care to sympathize with them, you need to bear witness to their orchestrated destruction, for it is the future our children and our children’s children could inherit: A people unceremoniously and unjustly ripped from their land, as the whole world turns a blind eye until they’re eventually exterminated, one way or another.

Remember the t-shirts for sale depicting a pregnant Palestinian woman with a rifle scope crosshairs fixed upon her pregnant belly? Ghoulish text written by it: “one shot, two kills.” It doesn’t take much editing to change that woman from wearing a burka to wearing a flowing dress with long blonde braids. The rest will stay the same. And you know they’ll have no problem selling these.

But why?

It’s because we, like the Palestinians, are powerless. The only political options we are allowed result in surrender. And now, as lunatic hordes of communists and their negro pawns are burning down our cities, all we can do is sit by and watch… The frothing rioters are being allowed to destroy, pillage, and murder under the crusade of PROGRESS. The innocents caught in the mayhem are now sacrificial lambs of appeasement. Law and order abandoned much like our people.

That feeling you have when you are watching this world of lies spiral out of control, that’s righteous fury. This feeling breeds warriors from workers. This feeling forges nations. It’s the hardest to bury.

It should be noted that taking up this fight comes with a great cost, for there is no word in the English language that can convey the trappings White nationalists (or Whites, in general) find themselves in. On the long, winding road down to ruin we have been relegated to watch our houses burn down around us. It’s as if we are collectively placed in a straight jacket, strapped to a table of nails, and forced to bear witness to our own rape.

While the Palestinians find themselves forced into shelled ghettos that very well may become their own tombs in the near future, our ditches have already been dug. This is the worst case scenario. One not need to look far to discover the heinous injustices committed against our people day in and day out! Our nations burn! It continues unabated… as if we already cease to exist.

We find ourselves on the precipice of the abyss. Our people’s spirit has already been ghettoed along with our sovereignty. Our ideas have been gagged and all but outlawed. Any attempt to mount a defense will be met with overwhelming resistance.

O, my ancestors, they look down on me… I wonder what they feel.

We are powerless.

But those who rewrite our past cannot be allowed to write our epitaph. If we do not act now to secure our future, in this most pivotal moment in our history, there will be no history of us to recall.

I could have never guessed that looking around at the depressed land I grew up in and asking the simple question of “why has everything gone to shit?” would result with me simultaneously starting a family and being deemed a wrong-doer by an administration I fought to elect.

Year after year my hometown slipped further into ruin. This once bustling steel-town was now home to over a hundred blighted structures, boarded up buildings crumbling onto the sidewalks below them, and African-tier roads that threatened to murder your car if it went faster than twenty miles per hour. Denizens often ranted about leaving this forsaken place, but few have seemed to get past their stained barstools.

Yet, every election cycle you saw the same local politicians running for the same office. How did these people have the gall to keep putting up their signs all over the neglected land they’ve been tasked with stewardship of? The worst part was they always used bright neon colors to really stick out like a sore thumb. Better yet, why were these people still on the ballot?

Somehow the praise of democracy and “AMERICA NUMBER 1” my public school teachers cawed on about for hours seemed to fall flat. Something was wrong. Nothing made sense. Who is responsible for this? Who can be held accountable? Who can fix this? With these inquiries I went off to seek the truth.

The answer, I came to find out, would transform a concerned citizen into a maniacal monster – by my society’s standards, anyway.

This answer was not easy to find, for there is a reason the truth is well buried.

I observed that my “leaders” were hell-bent on the promotion and advocacy of foreigners and sexual deviants (sometimes both at the same time) while my hometown was wrecked with opioid abuse, crime, and despair. I listened to them as they said the immigrants were here to work the jobs I didn’t want to, as I struggled to find gainful employment as a young man. I watched the crowds of deviants flaunt their shameless ‘pride’ in front of young children in broad daylight. To dislike this was to be lambasted as an intolerant bigot.

I read about how a father in Texas was forced by a court to pay for his five year old son’s gender transition into a girl. I saw child drag shows freely promoted on the television. To dislike this was to be deemed ‘afraid’ of change.

I learned that literal millions of unborn in my nation are minced into pieces in the womb largely as a last ditch effort of contraception, and that this was done to ‘liberate’ the would-be mothers. If I did not support this I was evil and hated women.

The labels didn’t bother me as much as what was happening, so I pressed further into the madness.

I found out about massive cover ups of Muslim grooming gangs in England, where the police and politicians not only turned a blind eye to the mass rape and trafficking of young British girls for DECADES, but have been found to have joined in on it. To this day this violation continues unabated, for even speaking of it in Old Albion comes with the certainty of a jail sentence. After all, that might make those Muslims feel unwelcome in England.

I discovered there was once a proud European country in Africa called Rhodesia that was a shining bastion of civilization. My distant cousins built skyscrapers among the land of mud huts and famine. They brought clean water and order to a Neolithic continent. For this they were deemed evil. War replaced their order with barbarism. Their once shining cities are now decrepit ruins. The barbarians now starve and plead for the Europeans, who they still butcher over there to this very day, to return to make the plants grow. Reports of the systematic murder of White farmers were deemed ‘conspiracy,’ and tossed to the wind.

I saw towns in Germany and Sweden devoid of Germans and Swedes, but was reassured that the new “Germans” and “Swedes” coming over by the boatload were going to enrich these nations. I watched in horror as large box trucks driven by these enriching people plow into dozens of French citizens in Christmas markets. I read about the cannibalization of a young Italian woman in her own country by someone who never should have stepped foot on that side of the Mediterranean. I saw a German family collect donations for the people who murdered their daughter. I was watching nations die. The same phenomenon began to explode in my own nation, yet my people were always to blame for how these foreigners abused us.

Blacks were burning down their own cities in America, and holding highways hostage for hours. I saw four black teenagers livestream the kidnapping and torture of a mentally disabled White boy, and then get off with a slap on the wrist; while a White couple whose truck adorned with Confederate flags happened to break down in front of a black family’s home were sentenced collectively over thirty years in prison.

Horrific black-on-white murders were suppressed as the media crafted saints out of criminals.

To express your distaste to this vibrant diversity and the disorder that comes with it was to subject yourself to doxing mobs who would try to ruin your life. Because expecting order is White Supremacy.

Talking about these things got me routinely banned from the virtual public square. How could I stay silent in the face of my people’s seemingly collective suicide?

I noticed that there was one group consistently rubbing their hands with glee at all of this chaos. I noticed that these people were largely the ones dictating the discourse, and the first to lead the charges against those who took issue with it. In fact, this group was so much more perfidious and powerful than I had ever considered – it wasn’t just the discourse they were directing, but they were often spearheading the bedlam itself.

This group would always cry about the tragedies that befell them and their precious pets, but never why… and certainly never about the horrors they have brought upon the world. I learned of their atrocities, and in the middle of it, realized I was living in one.

The most shocking thing is this all had happened before. And there were men just like me who could not bear to suffer such things. But more importantly, they decided to do something about it – unlike the paper tiger conservatives who have failed to conserve a single piece of Eden that once was.

It became clear that the system knows full-well immigration is destroying the working class; that cramming multitudes of radically different people together is a recipe for disaster; that equality is a lie, a feelgood Kumbaya pipedream sold to impressionable idiots. To realize this is orchestrated on purpose, and not the result of sheer idiocy, is one of the most gut-wrenching things one can experience.

But it also granted me clarity.

Instead of watching these do-nothing conservative blowhards cry incessantly for the upteenth time about these conditions that violated muh freedoms! And Democracy™!, I decided to act. So many sit idly by, talking big about their freedoms. “Freedom” became the coping cry of cowards who watch their country die while trying to evade the blistering Eye of Sauron. Yes, look at what your aimless desire for freedom has wraught! Clutching your pearls over a bygone era is not a way to stop your nation from dying.

No, no, no. I could not sit and watch this happen.

When I was removed from the virtual public square, I stepped into the physical. But I was not alone. I joined a thousand other men sickened and disillusioned by this intolerable situation that has been forced upon us. We marched on a hot summer day to give one giant middle finger to the system that hated us.

After all, they couldn’t ban us from our First Amendment!

Instead of an obese, purple haired she-man behind a screen removing my ability to speak, I was frog marched out of a park in Northern Virginia by riot police behind their riot shields, and forced into a gauntlet of insane people who wanted me dead for defending my history.

I watched as the ‘nationalist,’ ‘populist’ President I voted for, let my comrades get railroaded as our rights were stripped from us in the most cowardly fashion in front of the entire world.

O’ say can you see!

At the end of this whirlwind of a journey, I understood that taking my own side as a White man made me a villain. And, thus a new chapter began. If taking my own side in this horrible world made me evil, then so be it. Fuck you, I’m a fascist!

If you feel righteous anger in your heart, listen to it. It is duty calling.

Coming to terms with this duty is what sets us apart from the chaff.

As you watch your own people get mobbed in the streets today, take note on how our ‘leaders’ who ran on Law and Order sit by in cowardice. No one is coming to save them. No one is coming to save you.

Anger towards this reprehensible system is why they called us White Supremacists. Refusing to become a victim of this world of Jewish lies is ‘supremacist.’ And like the Palestinians, we refuse these living conditions because we must!

You do not argue with the mobs that call for your death in the streets. You organize or you surrender.

Never before in all of history would such things be tolerated. We are called foolish ‘idealists’ by the same crowds who excuse the collective suicide of our race – by the same crowds who have surrendered everything up to this precipice of history! Foolish for wanting to survive! What is more foolish: knowing you’re in a prison and devising a way to escape it, or trying to convince the jailer to give you your own cell block with fluffier pillows?

Of course we are idealists – we want a better world. We have not deluded ourselves into thinking anyone but us will create that world. This is the worst case scenario, and excuses for cowardice have worn thin. We will become the leaders we lack. We will re-forge the bonds of brotherhood which were eroded. We will be the booming voice that has been silenced for far too long. We will survive because it is our duty.

All that matters now is action.

“If we do not organize, do not inspire others to join us in our revolutionary struggle, then we will leave only ruins for our children and grandchildren to die in. But if we have that courage, that dedication, then we will gift them the founding of a new world, the beginning of a golden age, the birth of a new story for our race.” -Nam

As a final reminder, this is all happening while we are still armed. This is happening to us while we are the majority. Think of how they treat you now.

I’m not sure we can risk another decade of “just leave me alone.”

8 thoughts on “Powerless

  • June 3, 2021 at 9:34 AM
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    Well said. I never really gave any of this stuff much thought until they wouldn’t let me not think about it. Unfortunately for them, I reached VERY different conclusions. Looking at history, I’m optimistic. They always overplay their hand. You don’t get the boot 109 times because you played it smart.

    Reply
    • June 7, 2021 at 11:30 AM
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      Great comment. Way more positive than I’ve been feeling!

      Reply
  • June 7, 2021 at 8:24 PM
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    Exactly. Let it begin with us.

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    • June 8, 2021 at 12:11 PM
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      Your women are with you!

      Reply
  • June 15, 2021 at 11:51 AM
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    “To those who have not the courage to look upon the rampant feeding beast,
    or to stand up and change the course of history,
    what have they but lies to tell themselves as they walk
    up the slaughterhouse ramp, if we should lose?

    Or the contempt of the victors when we win?

    I once feared too, if the truth be told — I was changed only by the understanding
    that there is no choice but to serve our people — so still, I hold a fading empathy for those yet unmoved and I call to them:

    Come now my kindred, our blood which burned through the ice ages,
    that blood which conquered this world and had begun to reach for others,
    that blood which bore you, that blood which calls you to your duty,
    to your glory, to redeem their struggle those who came before us,
    and to secure by struggle those lives yet to come.

    Let that blood past and future whisper to you in your veins,
    Let it sing,

    Let it roar in your heart!

    Now, picture if you will, that moment which has no beginning and has no end…
    that moment which lasts forever…

    One glimpse into that eternal from which we come would show you:
    That in that realm we may have already lost everything
    …our destiny and our progeny fading from the landscape
    like mist forgotten while we wallowed here in illusion.

    With nothing to lose but our poisoned lives,
    and Everything! to gain.

    To become again who we are in full, in a continuous flow from the dawn of our race,
    our blood flowing down as if through one timeless body,
    and onward toward the infinities of the Universe and
    ultimately beyond even that, to approach
    that Who created us.

    With nothing to lose but lives without meaning.

    And the world, and the universe, and the glories of our progeny to come, and in the end to know at last our Creator — All of this to win.

    So spit out the cud.
    Crash through the rails.
    Be men again.

    And whatever your role, be it open or be it obscure, I will tell you this:
    You are not alone in this world, or in this time, or in the eternal.
    The blood, and the honor, and the soul, and the love of our people…
    It all connects.

    Believe as you will,
    but I have glimpsed this.

    Rise, White man, to your blood!”

    Reply
  • June 15, 2021 at 9:52 PM
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    After reading several articles and listening to quite a few episodes of the Dispatch, I gather that a lot of Bundsmen are married. Any advice on how to broach the topic of WN with a spouse or family member?

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    • June 16, 2021 at 8:48 PM
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      I think the best arguments you’re going to make to them are made by our enemies. Consistently expose them to their actions that are made obscure by the media apparatuses. If it stirs the embers within them, you can help that kindling spark into a greater blaze.

      Reply
      • June 17, 2021 at 12:34 PM
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        Thank you, and thank the Mannerbund.

        Reply

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