March 11, 2010 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
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Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so.
Hush, you uncle, hush and listen, and his cheeks were all aglow.
I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon, for the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, for the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon.
Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, where the gathering is to be?
In the old spot by the river, right along to you and me.
One word more for signal, token, whistle of the marching tune Fire pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon Out from many a mud-walled cabin eyes were watching through the night Many a manly chest was rubbing for the blessed warning light Corners
passed along the valleys like the man she's lonely crew And a thousand blades were flashing at the rising moon Greetings from the Northwest Homeland, comrades.
It's March the 11th, 2010.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
There beside the singing river, the dark mass of men were seen.
Far above their shining weapons hung their own beloved green.
Death to every foe and traitor forward, Spike the marching tune.
And hurrah, my voice for freedom is the rising of the moon.
This episode of Radio Free Northwest is going to be a little different.
I'm going to actually read from a script, specifically excerpts from an article I published several months ago in the Northwest Observer called The Awakening.
This is what I mean about this show dealing with character issues and deep spiritual stuff.
I know maybe it's more fun for you to listen to some guy ranting and raving and calling Obama a nigger, but all of this boring spiritual stuff is in fact what's really important because it's the issue of character which is preventing the movement from becoming effective and which has always stood in our way.
What we have to undergo as a people is an epiphany, a profound moral and spiritual awakening.
And these are my thoughts along that line.
Why is it so hard?
Why can't we ever seem to accomplish anything in the real world?
Why are our fellow white people such idiots and bird-brained doofuses?
Why won't they listen to us?
How did they get to be so bloody stupid that they can't see what's right in front of their faces?
It's not as if we don't have the truth on our side.
We're not flat-earthers or some kind of cult.
Always remember, we are right and they are wrong.
Every day, the cable news confirms that everything we say about the world, the government, the Jews, and other evil people who rule us, as well as everything we say about the muddy scum who are overrunning our country, is true.
You'd think that with an advantage like that, building a Northwest separatist movement would be easy, but it isn't.
It's not as if we don't have a plan.
For a long time we didn't, but now we do.
We have a plan that actually makes sense.
We have a plan that's doable.
The Butler Plan and the Northwest American Republic.
We even have a new constitution to replace the old one that failed.
It's not as if what we seek to accomplish can't be done.
It has been done several times over in the past century, everywhere from Ireland to Papua New Guinea.
And it's been done against political and military forces that were much stronger by the standard of the times than the present weakened and disorganized America.
Remember, Southern Ireland first broke away from Britain 90 years ago, at the height of the British Empire's power and prestige.
There's no reason on earth why we can't do it here.
We have done it here, in fact.
A hundred years ago, our people used to build alternative political movements all the time, and not just in Europe.
Remember, not just the fascists and the national socialists in the IRA.
In this country, there were the original populists, the IWW, the Klan, the Grange, Huey Long's movement, Father Coughlin.
The Black Legion, the original Citizens' Councils.
We've done this before, so why the hell can't we do it now?
It's not as if we don't have the numbers.
There are tens of thousands of racially aware white people accessible on the Internet alone, if we could ever just persuade them to live in communities like all the other persecuted minorities down through history.
Once we get them here and get functioning crews going in every community in the Northwest, through our efforts, those tens of thousands of racially conscious whites will eventually grow to be millions.
Why is it so hard?
Yes, these are difficult times economically, what with the Obama Depression, but that didn't stop hundreds of thousands of people loading up everything they owned in the world onto Conestoga wagons 150 years ago and setting out across the plains on the Oregon Trail, when there was nothing at all here in the Northwest waiting for them.
Nowadays, there are interstates and soft motel beds along the way, and one can travel in four or five days the route that it took the first pioneers six or eight months to walk.
Our forefathers would have laughed at your job worries.
They made their own jobs with their own tools and their own skills and never expected to have to do anything else.
Long ago, it used to be that the idea of working for a boss was repugnant to Americans.
The genetic trait that always imparted to our people their unique Aryan character, integrity, idealism, and physical courage seems to have become largely dormant over the past 50 years, probably due to the massive loss to our gene pool during both world wars.
When all the white alpha males on both sides went to the front and slaughtered one another, and the cowards stayed behind lines as staff officers, bureaucrats, conscientious objectors, and so forth.
That alpha male gene seems to have been bred out of us for all practical purposes.
The numbers of white males who retain it are so few that they're not even a remnant.
They're just genetic flukes, throwbacks, what's called sports in animal breeding, when an individual suddenly shows traits from many generations back.
But the party has to find them.
Even a few hundred white people, male or female, who still bear the alpha gene could tip the balance if concentrated in a few key places here in the Northwest, and if given a program of action to follow.
Why is it so hard?
I have been begging and pleading for years for us to make the decision to live within half an hour's drive of one another.
You'd think our isolated, lonely, frustrated, and frightened people would jump at the opportunity.
That they would move heaven and earth to come here and be with their own kind.
Instead, we continue to make excuses as to why we cannot and will not come home.
We continue to hide from each other.
Heaven knows why.
We can't hide from our enemies.
The FBI and Homeland Security can locate and lay hands on any one of us within 24 hours, any time they want.
But we keep on hiding from our friends.
Why?
Why are we so afraid of each other to the point where we run away and hide on the internet behind computers and false names?
Why are people who claim to be white nationalists so paranoid and frightened that they won't even show up to meet someone at a Starbucks for coffee?
The computer gives us the safe option of interacting with a machine instead of with other fallible human beings who might end up entangling and complicating our lives in various ways.
Like so many Dilberts, white males have become so afraid of any human contact that we flee into the cubicle, onto the computer screen, and into the video game where we can live a fantasy life.
It is an act of cowardice because only a coward flees from the rough and tumble of human emotion, human fellowship, and human conflict.
We are afraid that others might play too rough, physically or emotionally.
We're afraid that our tender egos might be bruised, as well they might be if we deal with real people instead of machines.
Why do so many of us refuse to take our participation beyond the Internet and sometimes disappear for months on end so that I have no idea if they're alive or dead?
Why do they do that?
What kind of serious adults would do that?
How can they reconcile such casual disappearance and reappearance with any shape or form of racial faith or duty?
How, in the name of God, can anyone treat this sacred, vital, and incredibly urgent cause as a mere hobby?
Why do normally sane and stable people seem to suddenly go off the rails when they become involved with racial politics, especially now that we have the internet to accelerate this process?
Why do people who functioned and succeeded reasonably well in the real world of work and family life for many years suddenly turn into gibbering freaks when they get a computer keyboard under their hands?
We are right.
The evil people who rule us are wrong.
We have truth.
They have lies.
So why is it so hard?
I once spoke with an old Hungarian freedom fighter who had been one of the young kids who charged the Soviet tanks in Budapest in 1956 with nothing but a few Molotov cocktails and raw courage.
He told me something that I will never forget because it's so simple and so crushingly true.
He said, Harold, you Americans will always fail because you are attempting to fight the most terrible evil on earth with nothing but words.
Evil cannot be fought with words, no matter how pretty and brilliant they are, because evil is real and words are not.
Why will so many of us contribute nothing at all to this fight but words?
Is it dangerous?
No.
Do I ask people to go out and commit illegal acts of violence and bloodshed and thus get themselves killed by police or put in prison to be sodomized by niggers?
No.
That point will not come for a very long time.
I'm not asking anything of the kind now, and no one with two brain cells to rub together is suggesting otherwise.
I've told you the Northwest Front is a legal organization that must act as if it were an illegal one, but it is still legal.
What exactly is it that I ask you to do?
The first and possibly most important thing I ask you to do is meet.
The most appalling development in recent years to my mind is the idea we've acquired that we can do it all while hiding behind a nice, safe, anonymous computer.
The introduction of the Internet has proven to be the death knell of the last remaining rudimentary physical activity that white racialists undertake in a standing position out of doors.
And that's simple literature distribution.
Almost no one does it anymore.
White males, as opposed to men, sit at home with a cold brewski in their hands and they play with their computers.
No, people, one cannot bring about political or social change from behind a computer any more than one can bring it about from behind a post office box.
For there to be any organized racial resistance, racially aware whites must meet with one another physically, look one another in the eye, become friends and comrades, and offer one another mutual support and reinforcement.
They must work and plan and bond together as friends, neighbors, brothers and sisters, and socialize with one another in the widest sense of the term.
One of the worst criticisms of our movement, because it is so true, is that it is impossible for single white males to find a racially aware mate in our own circles.
We are dying out because we can't seem to locate women who are willing to have children with us and forego the money and pleasure and personal dominance that political correctness teaches is their due.
Racially aware, single and accessible white females of childbearing age don't seem to exist.
Now, don't get me wrong.
We do have some good women, and we're getting more.
But almost by definition, they're either too old, you wonder where the hell they were when they were in their 20s, or else they're already married or committed.
The few remaining good white women get snapped up right out of high school, and they stay that way.
One of the several reasons for our poor recruitment of young women of childbearing age is our retreat from any.
How can we bring white women around when we make no attempt to bring other white men around?
The prototypical white Dilbert's ancestors ruled this planet as kings, and yet today Dilbert hides in his cubicle, turning inward on himself and using his still superior knowledge to create his own little virtual world on the computer, in his online video games, or in books, or in pointless mysticism.
The white male needs to get his ass back out into the real world and learn the lost art of dealing with flesh and blood human beings again, including women.
Every week, I get inquiries from people who want to learn about the Northwest Front, but who refuse to give me a full name and a mailing address, and when I press them, they tell me that they're convinced that the organs are watching their house and their mail carrier is some kind of government spy.
And in all honesty, I cannot completely discount this possibility.
We do know that the organs have used mail carriers and post office employees as observers in the past.
And yet the simple fact is that we will never make a revolution with people who are afraid of the mailman.
Somebody has got to start taking some personal risk sometime.
Time and again, down through the years, I've gotten emails and letters from young white people of both sexes, convinced that they are all alone in their racial agony.
Literally begging me to give them the name of someone in their area that they can physically meet in order to provide some kind of white contact and support in their despair and isolation in the politically correct world.
Time and again, there would be so-called comrades living within half an hour's drive of this person who reacted with anger and paranoia and accused me of setting them up over my mere suggestion that they step forward and meet another white to further the cause that they claim to support.
More than once I have gotten hysterical emails as a result, demanding to be removed from the mailing list and all trace of their association with me destroyed because my request that they take the rudimentary action of meeting someone else in a restaurant in order to serve their race convinced them that I was some kind of agent provocateur.
The number of white people, especially young people, whom we have lost because other so-called white nationalists were such chicken-shit cowards is something I don't even want to think about.
dozens to my personal knowledge.
I'm asking you to take part in the lawful dissemination of an idea, something that you have every constitutional right to do, and yet many of you continue to hide behind your computers.
Still, you refuse to come here where there are others like you.
In the name of all that is holy, why?
Why would someone choose voluntarily to live among the muds rather than come here to the Northwest where he could make a life among people of his own race and belief?
I don't get that.
What in God's name is wrong with us?
The hardest thing for anyone in the white nationalist movement today to accomplish is to get other white people who supposedly share our views and concerns...
To commit any kind of physical act in support of those ostensible beliefs.
Tapping on a computer keyboard does not constitute a bona fide physical act in support of the white resistance, because as interesting and as pertinent as the results may be, they're still nothing but words.
And as my old Hungarian friend pointed out, words are not real.
A genuine act of resistance is something that is done with the body, not with the mind.
An actual physical act of resistance involves voluntarily giving up at least some portion of safety and anonymity, and therefore it requires at least a small shot of physical courage, the baseline of all human virtue.
Courage means the willingness to place oneself at risk for a common cause or a larger good, and the willingness to accept that enemies will try to do you harm and may succeed, but that the cause is worth that negative result.
In the final analysis, we do not revere soldiers for their courage or for their ability to kill, but for their willingness to die, to place their own body between their loved ones and the war's devastation.
The time has come when we must begin to demand at least small acts of courage and genuine resistance from those who claim to believe as we do, and not just words.
No one is asking you to charge the enemy machine guns.
Resistance need not be armed or violent at first.
A true act of resistance involves the white male physically rising from a seated position, leaving the warmth and safety of his rec room or his bedroom where his computer is, and going out of doors into the cold and the rain, meeting and interacting face to face with other human beings without the safety and anonymity of a computer terminal between him and them to shield him from unpleasant, unexpected, or difficult results.
Real life cannot be altered or made to go away with the click of a mouse, and it is in the real world that our people will either survive or perish.
A true act of resistance involves the white male getting behind the wheel of his car and driving long distances in order to physically meet other human beings who claim to share his beliefs and his hopes for the future, knowing full well that there is at least some chance the person or persons he is meeting might not be as advertised.
He takes that chance because it is right that he do so.
It is his duty to his people and he does it without cavil.
Genuine resistance sometimes requires the use of someone's real name in a public context.
It sometimes involves him signing his name to something.
It sometimes involves him standing up publicly to proclaim his opinions and to tell us all what he believes in.
It involves actually confronting the people who are doing wrong, physically, face to face, rather than running home and writing nasty things about such people to post to a blog.
I'm not unrealistic.
I know that we all have livings to make and jobs we must protect.
I understand more than most that this evil system punishes those who dissent against it by depriving white men of their ability to make a living, and threatens them with life in a homeless shelter or under a bridge.
But there is no other way.
Sooner or later, somebody has to man up and stand up, or there won't be any more of us in a hundred years' time, something we can't seem to wrap our minds around.
Genuine resistance, even of the legal kind, in every instance requires at least a small ration of physical courage, that seed of our ancient virtue that must be nurtured and must grow in size and strength as more demands are placed on it.
Okay, time for our first music break.
Some of you emailed me and said that you enjoyed the old-time music from a couple of weeks ago.
Well, here's some real old-time music, as in 15th century.
This is the sort of thing that could be used as theme music for my novels Rose of Honor and Black Flame, for those of you who've read those books.
This is the Camerata of London and the Battaglia Dance from the time of King Henry V. If
there is to be any hope at all of our survival as a species on this earth, white people must ask and answer the following questions.
The first question that must be addressed is, why are we so weak and lame?
Given the material abundance and relative stability of Anglo-Zionist society up until recently, most white males today grow up in a kind of extended adolescence.
Life is one long spring break of beer, partying, casual sex, and carefree irresponsibility that never seems to end, even as it careens on towards disaster.
Baby boomers and Generation Xers in their 30s, 40s, and even their 50s act like kids following the script of an Animal House-style teenage gross-out movie.
Their entire lives are devoted to acquiring ever bigger, shinier toys to play with.
The string of broken homes, broken marriages, divorces, bankruptcies, addictions, bad life decisions, fads and diversions, and aimless hedonism they leave behind is the most indelible mark of Jewish materialist man.
Okay, granted, there are still a few exceptions.
Some white men are willing to shoulder their personal and civic responsibilities in life, true.
But the clear and brutal fact is that they seem to be an increasing minority.
This pattern of white adolescent childishness continuing far into adulthood, of self-centered egotism, of viciousness and general lack of character, has never been displayed so clearly as it has in the racially conscious community over the past three generations.
The time when we can afford this terrible, shameful weakness and childish silliness is over.
The demographic clock has struck.
By 2050, we will be officially a minority in North America, but out here in the real world, it will in fact be all over a lot sooner than that.
Our average age will be so high that we will be incapable of recovery as a species.
The last white people will die out in the northern reaches of Canada around the year 2130 or so.
A little more than a century from now, we will be gone.
The generation of white children now being born may well be the last wave of births sufficiently numerous even to be called a generation.
From then on, our path to extinction is clear.
The second question that has to be answered is, how did we get this way?
For the past 60 years, this country has enjoyed a time of abundance and material wealth beyond the dreams of any nations or peoples who have gone before, including our own.
Julius Caesar, Henry VIII, Thomas Jefferson, and Queen Victoria did not live in the kind of luxury today enjoyed by one working-class family in a double-wide mobile home.
Indeed, Victoria's husband Prince Albert and several royal children in the 19th century died of cholera and dysentery brought on because the palace plumbing was so atrocious.
We've become used to the idea that every material comfort and the gratification of our every material desire is not only possible, but our absolute right as Americans.
The neoconservatives call this American exceptionalism.
Most white people today have never actually had to fight for anything, in the sense of swinging a club or firing a rifle so that they and their families could eat that night, which is an experience that most third-world peoples take for granted.
It is this incredible material wealth and technological advancement, along with passably efficient police and a lack of war or other inescapable physical conflict to put us on our middle, which has made it possible for white males to remain adolescents.
They've never had to grow up.
And since the draft was abolished in 1972, they've never faced the possibility that they might get dragged into a shooting war against their will.
Now we are finally starting to lose that abundance, and our reaction is to scream like crybabies throwing a tantrum demanding their toys back.
This is the crucial point.
The Sicilians have a proverb.
Never ask for what you can't take.
Because we are by and large overgrown, spoiled children, we believe that if we just kick and scream enough, the grown-ups will give us an ice cream or a lollipop just to shut us up.
And the idea of knocking the grown-ups to the floor and taking their wallet and their car keys by force never occurs to us, because we're still children.
Americans are always demanding that we be given things.
The third question is, what is it that we are not seeing?
We're not seeing ourselves.
Out here in the real world, No matter what plan we use, we can only achieve anything like the results we claim to want through revolution.
The complete reordering of American society from top to bottom by force of arms.
And all of us know this.
It's the biggest open secret in American politics.
The entire political system is designed with one goal in focus.
To prevent change.
The only way to put an end to the horror is to put an end to the whole system.
And Obongo and his Jew crew ain't gonna go gentle into that good night.
The only way to put an end to this dance macabre is by fire and sword.
Being who we are, white Americans of the early 21st century, we will do anything, perform any feat of mental and semantic acrobatics to avoid having to face up to inconvenient and unpalatable truths, especially this one.
Our capacity for self-deception is limitless.
Peter, Paul, and Mary once sang, How many times can a man turn his head and pretend that he just doesn't see?
Where white people are concerned, the number of times we can turn our heads is infinite.
We are especially good at turning our heads while looking in a mirror.
We know what we're seeing in that mirror.
Most of us have the good grace to be ashamed, and so we turn our heads and pretend that we just don't see.
We don't want the Iron Dream.
We want the American Dream.
Middle-class suburbia and red, white, and blue and Marsha Brady the cheerleader.
And like the overgrown babies that we are, we will keep on crying and beating our little fisties against the wall and holding our breaths until we turn blue until Mommy and Daddy buy us that toy we want.
But Mommy and Daddy are dead and gone.
We want the present system magically to fix itself, which ain't gonna happen.
We're really screwed, guys.
We want result A, which can only be achieved by strategy B. But the overwhelming majority of us would die rather than adopt strategy B, literally.
Question number four.
What can we do to change ourselves from the timid and frightened weaklings we are today into the men our ancestors were?
For almost three generations, American right-wingers and racial nationalists have been talking about a mythical time in the future when all of our problems will be solved through some kind of humongous national disaster.
This event is generally referred to among right-wingers as when the balloon goes up, and it is an intrinsic part of our subculture's narrative.
Just what this great disaster might turn out to be is anyone's guess.
It could be an economic collapse.
It could be a political crisis.
It could be a foreign invasion.
It was supposed to be Y2K.
It could be peak oil and the drying up of fossil fuels.
It could be an epidemic.
AIDS was considered a candidate back in the 1980s.
Some now rely on the Mayan calendar dating to 2012 and an alleged invisible asteroid called Planet X which is supposed to be heading towards the Earth, but of course the government isn't telling us.
Well, they wouldn't, would they?
The main attraction in our minds of this projected catastrophe is that it puts off the fatal moment when we have to man up.
It miraculously relieves us.
Of the obligation to confront our racial enemies with weapons in our hands and forcibly remove them from power.
The balloon going up miraculously lifts the iron heel from our necks.
It gets the monkey of the federal government and its law enforcement off our backs, and it allegedly allows us to be free again without our undertaking any actual physical risk to ourselves, without demanding any arduous effort.
Or sacrifice or forcing us to exercise our intellectual faculties at all in order to do it ourselves.
In this fantasy scenario about the balloon going up, the Iron Heel will simply lift off us by magic.
We will never have to see those flashing blue and red lights in the night outside our house, or see the body-armored thugs with their M-16s lumbering up our driveway to drag us into living hell.
Will all be done for us through some act of God, and then we can be free again without doing anything at all to earn it.
One day the bad blue men will all be just gone.
It will all just kind of happen.
But there is a fundamental flaw in this vision.
The presumption is that should such a thing happen, we will all be ready to become ripped, tattooed, Mad Max, road warriors, and purple mohawks riding up and down the highways and shooting crossbows at one another.
Or else we'll all suddenly become idyllic 19th century small farmers living in cabins in the woods where the outside world will never intrude and shooting our neighbors if they dare to step on our property.
Or whatever else vision of our success we seem to have in our minds.
You know, those visions are actually surprisingly rare.
Most of us actually seem to have no conception of exactly what it is that we do want out of life or out of politics beyond a return to the time of abundance.
Now it's obvious that...
If there is to be any hope, and there must be, for any kind of real-world solution to the present crisis, and there must be, then we as human beings must change.
We can't put this discussion off any longer.
The primary applicable features of the white American character, relevant to the question of why we don't do anything to save ourselves from our present situation, seem to be cowardice and laziness.
Movement opinion is divided as to whether either cowardice or laziness is predominant in the white male character.
All agree, however, that no matter which of these is first or second, stupidity runs a close third.
Is the situation a little bit more nuanced than that?
Yes, of course, but essentially this analysis is correct.
So how in God's name did this happen to us?
It didn't happen all at once, and once again I must repeat something that I have said before on several occasions.
White males are, in fact, still capable of displaying both extreme physical courage and vibrant, powerful energy, as well as brilliant analytical intelligence.
They do these things every day, as policemen, as firemen, as scientists for NASA, and as imperial soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan.
But what appears to have been lost is any sense of individuality, of initiative, of independent thought and ability for the white male to act outside the box.
In yuppie speak, you might say that white males have a risk-averse corporate culture.
Here in the Northwest migration movement, we see it as a pathological reluctance to go first.
White males are now intensely dependent on social approval, which in this society means Jewish approval.
They can do brave and strenuous things, but they can only do so within certain very narrow socially approved parameters.
At the end of the day, the whites must have the pat on the head, the attaboy, the hecksure of peer group approval for everything that they do.
Whites were once wolves.
They have now become dogs domesticated by the Jew.
We are herd animals.
A white male can no longer exist outside the herd in the deep, dark forest by himself, serving only his own interests and not the commands of his master.
It has been said that war is when you let the government tell you who the enemy is.
Revolution is when you decide for yourself.
White males don't seem to be capable anymore of deciding for themselves who the enemy is.
We have to change that by altering and transforming our character from within ourselves.
Okay, it's time for another musical break.
Since that last one put me in an archaic mood, let's go for something even older, like, say, something from the 12th century.
It's really difficult for historians to reconstruct what ancient music actually sounded like.
In the early Middle Ages, they did develop various methods of musical notation so that the notes and the lyrics could be written down, but very little of that has survived into the present day.
One composer whose work did survive was that of a German lady named Hildegard von Bingen.
She was the abbess of a convent, and so most of her music was naturally religious, but it's so good that it does lend itself to more secular and artistic interpretations by contemporary musicians who reproduce the original sound as nearly as they can with instruments like the harp and the lute and so forth.
This is O Viridisima Virga by Hildegard von Bingen and sung by Katerina Boczlovsky.
O Viridisima Virga by Hildegard von Bingen and sung by Katerina Boczlovsky.
Thank you.
you you you you you It's time for us all to take a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves, of our minds and our hearts and our motivations, and we must not lie to ourselves.
We've been doing that for way too long.
Why?
Are you involved in this whole racial thing at all, on the internet or otherwise?
Is it for yourself?
Or for something besides yourself?
An ideal?
Another person?
What?
Why are you listening to these words of mine?
How did you come here?
Idle curiosity?
Hatred of niggers?
What?
Why do you hang around the movement at all, on the internet or otherwise?
What is it that you want from all this?
What do you hope to gain or achieve?
Are you here simply looking for entertainment?
Now, if so, be honest with yourself and with me.
I respect honesty, even when it tells me things I don't want to hear.
What are you willing to do?
What are you willing to risk?
What are you willing to give up in order to achieve whatever that goal may be in your case?
No, I mean, really.
If I were to show up on your doorstep later today and demand that you do certain things for the Northwest Republic, what would you do?
How far would you go?
Don't bother emailing or writing me and telling me all about it.
Me, you'd bullshit.
You need to answer these questions yourself to yourself and be honest with yourself about it.
I mean, really, what would you do?
Are you in this because you want to put something into it or because you want to get something out of it?
If you haven't thought about these things, then it's time you did.
Actual physical revolution in America, as in down them and up us, is just plain beyond the comprehension of many of us.
We simply cannot wrap our minds around the possibility that such a thing could be.
I have lived in other lands, and I know it can happen.
Most of you haven't, and so you don't.
Don't worry.
I get that.
Sometimes young whites come to me and ask what they should do personally in their own lives in order to prepare themselves for the struggle to come.
I tell them that they have to forget everything they learned growing up in the late 20th century in this temple of greed and corruption and transform themselves into the type of young men that their great-grandfathers would have been glad to see show up on their front porch to court their daughters.
This is our task, to transform ourselves into people our great-grandparents would have recognized.
How on earth do we do something like that?
How do we erase an entirely false and pernicious but deeply ingrained belief system along with the entire mental and emotional content of our minds and rebuild it all from the ground up through some mystical transfiguration that comes out of a cosmic epiphany?
Sure, that works.
And some people I know have experienced that very thing.
It's an experience that's more common than you may think, in fact, even in these days of sleaze and roses.
But it's not something that you can count on or schedule.
The first step is the same as dealing with a chemical dependency, such as alcohol or drugs.
The person involved has got to want to change, to want to cease being the American he or she is and become that older, truer version of himself or herself that lies within all our genes.
He or she must genuinely, truly want to stop drinking, stop using drugs, and or stop being a yellow American dog.
Changing one's character is a matter of will, pure and simple, of imposing the dictates of your conscious mind upon your body.
Or in this case, on your unconscious mind.
And yes, that can be done.
Your unconscious is full of crap because the Jews have put it there, but your conscious can shovel it out of your brain and your heart if you force it to happen and refuse to take no for an answer from yourself.
It's like homosexuality.
This business about faggots being born and not made, about it being some kind of genetic mutation and therefore they can't really help themselves, is purest rubbish.
It's simply a lame and non-credible excuse for weakness.
The lack of the necessary will to control one's behavior.
The cure for homosexuality is very simple.
Don't do it.
To give a slightly less repugnant example, alcoholism is the same way.
Here's where I can give you some personal insight.
Now, I was a heavy drinker for many years.
I was not an alcoholic because an alcoholic is someone who can't stop.
I could, and I did.
I drank for many years because I didn't want to stop.
I sowed no serious reason why I should, which may well call my judgment into question, but which does not constitute some kind of overwhelming chemical addiction, powerful and baffling, as Alcoholics Anonymous puts it, something over which I had no power.
I was already, in fact, winding down my boozing before May the 10th, 2004, because I'd come to realize that I wasn't getting anything out of it anymore, but then on the above date I had a series of transient ischemic attacks, TIAs or mini-strokes, the effects of which I'm still dealing with to this day.
I got the message loud and clear.
It was now necessary for me to stop drinking alcohol, because if I didn't, I would die or end up paralyzed in a wheelchair, and I would be unable to contribute anything further to my life's work of making the 14 words a living reality.
And so, I stopped.
Yes, just like that.
I'm what AA refers to as a dry drunk, meaning that I didn't use their precious, self-debasing Twelve Steps to cure myself.
As an aside, Twelve Steppery of any kind, booze or narco or gambling, is actually a sort of a cult, but we won't get into that here.
The point I'm making is that the way to stop doing something that is bad for you, like booze or buggery or dope or white American moral cowardice, is to stop doing it.
You don't mope and introspect and self-pity and worry about all the horrible things that may happen.
You know perfectly well what's right.
Make a clear decision.
I am not going to do this anymore.
I am not going to be that person anymore.
And then you do it.
Yes, it's that simple.
If you will pardon my typically American lapse into movie references, in The Thirteenth Warrior, the Viking tosses the puny Arab protagonist a huge broadsword to use as a weapon in battle.
Even Fatlan says, I cannot lift this.
And the Viking replies, Grow stronger.
As facile as it sounds, that's basically my answer.
I demand that you shoulder a moral burden, a burden whose weight you must never think that I don't know and understand full well, for I've carried it myself for four decades.
You tell me I cannot lift this, and I reply, grow stronger.
I tell you that you must step out from behind the computer and risk getting identified by your community, and maybe by the organs as well, as someone whose mind is not properly under control.
You reply, Harold, I cannot lift this, and I say to you, Grow stronger.
I ask that you pay $10 a month in party dues, and you moan, Oh no, not ten whole dollars.
I can't possibly afford $10 a month.
I can't lift this.
And I respond, Grow stronger.
I call upon you to take a small particle of risk and meet in person with other alleged white nationalists, who may or may not be as advertised, for the purpose of planning joint resistance efforts, and you say, oh no, Harold, that's too dangerous.
This person may be And I reply, Grow stronger.
I tell you that you must, in effect, renounce the material things of this world in order that your people and your descendants may be free.
And you cry out, Oh no, Harold, I gots to have my new cars and my plasma TV, my shiny toys and my cold beer in the fridge.
I just can't live this.
And I command you, grow stronger.
I tell you that you must give up what you have and come here to the homeland that God and destiny have appointed to our people.
And you weep, no, no, it's too hard, the hill is too steep, I can't lift this, Harold.
And I tell you, grow stronger.
Mind over matter, people.
You are an Aryan, and like all our race, you were born with an inflexible will that is more powerful than your bodily appetites and your emotional failings.
Use it.
Okay, my voice is starting to run down here, so one more music break to give you and me both a little bit of relief.
Don't worry, I'll give you something a little more modern this time.
I have some fans for my Northwest novels, and every now and then I'll send one of them a mixtape of the various music I was playing on my computer or my Walkman when I was writing the various books.
I sometimes used specific music as a theme when I was writing scenes involving certain characters in the novels.
You may recall the character of Shane Ryan from A Distant Thunder.
Well, this one is more or less Shane's theme music.
This is Steve Earle.
I was born by Papa's son, Juan, and I had a smoking gun.
Now some of you would live through me, then light me up and throw away the key.
I'll just find a place to hide away and hope that I'll just go away.
I feel alright.
I feel alright tonight.
I feel alright.
I feel alright tonight.
I'll bring you precious contraband and ancient tales from distant lands.
With conquerors and concubines and conjurers from darker times.
Betrayal and conspiracy, sacrilege and heresy.
I feel alright.
I feel alright tonight.
I feel alright.
I feel alright tonight.
I feel alright tonight.
Hey!
I got everything you want to need Your dark
spirit, your fondest dream Ask you questions, tell your lies Criticize and sympathize Yeah, but we can't For what you wish for, freaks, I've been to hell and now I'm back again.
I feel alright.
Yeah, I feel alright tonight.
Yeah, I feel alright.
I feel alright tonight.
Yeah, I feel alright.
I feel alright.
I feel alright.
Granted, ceasing to do or ceasing to be something is one thing, but because of the times we live in, becoming an actual Aryan man again does require affirmative positive acts of courage.
Small ones at first, like getting in your car and driving long distances to meet people like yourself and giving up your precious leisure time off from your job to do so.
Like meeting a stranger off the internet who claims to believe as you do in a Starbucks and checking him out.
Like giving such strangers your name.
And telling them a little about yourself so that they in turn can check you out.
Like beginning seriously to save money for your homecoming to the Northwest and not squandering it on Jewish luxuries and toys and beer.
True, these things involve a small amount of risk, but we take these small risks because it is the right thing to do.
And doing the right thing is more important than our personal safety or any other self-centered considerations.
Doing the right thing is in fact the first step on the long road to racial redemption for all of us.
Then we work our way up to greater and more difficult things like cleaning out our garage, selling up our property, and loading up that moving van for the homeland, often on spec, because it is right and not because of any potential gain for ourselves personally.
Then will come still greater things when it finally comes time for the world to meet Shane Ryan and Zach Hatfield.
A moral resource such as courage is like a muscle.
The more it's exercised, the stronger it becomes, and the easier it gets to call up at need.
Cowardice can become simply a bad habit.
Courage can become a good one.
The first thing that we must overcome is the major barrier that Zion has erected in our minds to keep us pinned in, the fear that comes from paranoia.
Yes, they're out to get us.
We accept that and drive on, because to falter out of fear is cowardice.
And we've made the decision that we will no longer be cowards.
We have to stop seeing FBI agents under every bed and suspecting listening devices in the sugar bowl, even though there is some chance that they may actually be there.
Otherwise, we can't function.
To function racially is our primary duty, which overrides all, at least in real men and women our great-grandfathers would recognize.
To avoid duty out of fear or worry for the consequences at the hands of an enemy is the quintessential definition of cowardice, and we have made the decision that cowardice is no longer to be a part of our lives.
Paranoia and fear prevent us from meeting with one another and prevent many of us from making the physical move home.
It is paranoia that keeps us hiding behind our computers where we are ineffective and pose no threat to the people in power who are doing us such terrible harm.
Therefore, we have to overcome and banish paranoia and fear with an effort of conscious will, wherein conscious and rational thought trumps feelings.
I am acutely aware that bad people really are out to get us.
Bill White and Matt Hale are living, crucified testimony as to the reality of the threat that faces us.
Their examples are fully intended to terrorize the rest of us into silence and acquiescence.
Yet all too many of our people allow ourselves to collapse into quivering masses of jelly, cowering behind their computers.
We're not going to do that anymore because our minds and our wills are stronger than the baser part of our nature that cringes like a beaten dog at the sight of the master's whip.
Let's be honest.
What are we afraid of?
We've got a bad case of the green monkey syndrome.
It's said that if one catches a wild monkey, paints it green, and then turns it loose in the forest, the other monkeys will unite and kill it.
In addition to the loss of the paper that nurtures us and allows us to survive in a completely material world, we're also afraid of being identified and isolated as green monkeys.
We are afraid that our co-workers, neighbors, and friends might find out that we're different, that we are not of the body, to quote an old Star Trek episode.
We fear that we might be gossiped about, shunned, and isolated from what human contact we may still have outside the Internet.
We just can't do it.
We can't live outside the herd anymore.
But we have to.
We must learn how to be true lone wolves again, because that's the only way any of us will ever bite the kosher herdsmen who are driving us to the stockyards to be slaughtered.
I can only state the obvious.
Someone must fight against this ghastly tyranny.
The ranks are terrifyingly thin.
And every time a man leaves or refuses to join those ranks for any reason, the day of our collective end as a race draws a little bit closer.
If Zion is not stopped here, now, in the time of those now living, then in the long run there will be none of us living.
None.
The darkness will continue to fall.
Whatever time you may buy for yourself through surrender for any reason, it will be but fleeting.
Well, our time is up now, and so that's it for this week's edition of Radio Free Northwest.
This program is brought to you by the Northwest Front, Post Office Box 4856, Seattle, Washington, 98194.
Or you can go to the party's website at www.northwestfront.org.
This is Harold Covington, and I'll see you next week.