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April 29, 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 your vocal, 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, rightful known to you and me.
One word, roar for signal, token, whistle up and march in tune, For your bike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, With your bike 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 throbbing for the blessed warming light.
The birds passed along the valleys like the man she's lonely crew, And a thousand blaze were flashing at the rising of the moon.
It's April the 29th, 2010.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
Radio Free Northwest Right.
Right, our first email of the evening comes from Phil in Pennsylvania.
Dear Mr. Covington, can you clarify an issue that seems to be contradictory at times?
When we're out in public, do you recommend being totally covert about I'm not referring to intentional propaganda efforts.
Or do you support, to any degree, the Vic Hobson approach of standing your ground against any and all vermin that cross your path to the point of engaging in road rage contests and verbal and physical altercations?
If you're somewhere between those two extremes, could you point out the deciding factors in actions and reactions?
Thank you, Phil.
First off, yes, I can understand why sometimes I seem to contradict myself.
I have a vision of what needs to happen in order to secure the existence of our people in the future for white children.
And in my own mind, that vision is so crystal clear that I want to start grabbing people and shaking them and banging their noggins with a baseball bat to clear out all the fuzz and the sludge from their skulls full of mush and make them see.
But these are Americans and I can't do that.
They say that an autistic child bangs his head on the wall and runs around in circles, screaming mindlessly at times because of his overwhelming frustration and his inability to communicate with others around him.
And I'm sure that sometimes I must strike people like that, banging my head on the wall and screaming at the top of my lungs to somehow get you all to see and understand just what the hell I'm talking about.
I can't shake the suspicion that most of you actually do know what I'm talking about.
You just deliberately refuse to understand because if you play dumb, you'll have one more excuse to continue sitting there where you are, tapping on a computer keyboard and doing nothing.
Maybe that's just my paranoia.
I hope it is anyway.
No, I don't.
Do I want you to go into a restaurant and shout racial slurs at the Mexican waiter, thus getting yourself thrown out and probably arrested for hate crime?
No, I don't.
Do I want you to render yourself completely unemployable and lose your home because you can't pay the mortgage if you haven't already lost it through foreclosure?
No, I don't.
Do I want you to become regarded by your friends and neighbors as an eccentric who has finally gone off the deep end with the quote-unquote racial stuff and become isolated from the And there are so few of us that we can no longer afford to waste time on things that are not effective.
We have to acquire the art of thinking before we act.
It's called common sense, people, and that is a quality in which American white nationalists seem to be completely lacking.
Common sense, common sense, common sense.
You cannot be of use to anyone, not the racial cause, not your family, and not yourself, if you are in jail or dead or living under a bridge.
One of the first duties of a revolutionary is to maintain his functionality in society.
So he can also function as a revolutionary.
This, again, is common sense.
Now, on the other hand, do I want you to spend your life cowering behind your computer, so frightened of any threat to your precious job and paycheck that you never let out so much as a squeak of protest?
No, I don't.
Do I want you to spend your whole life tapping on a computer keyboard and looking for excuses to do nothing at all that will take you out of your basement rec room?
No, I don't.
Do I want you to tremble like a baby deer at the sound of the knock on your door, terrified that someone has finally physically located you and the big bad FBI men are coming to take you away?
No, I don't.
Do I want you to never contact the Northwest Front, or for that matter any other group, never kick in a dime, never do a little driving to meet another white nationalist and generally spend the rest of your life living in an internet fantasy world?
No, I don't.
So what do I expect of you?
Bare minimum, I expect you to display enough physical courage to do something.
Maybe not charge the enemy machine guns point blank.
We don't need kamikazes, but I expect you to use your common sense to make a serious difference with your life.
All that we can do as individuals amounts to mere pinpricks, but tens of thousands of pinpricks together can eventually bleed the beast to death.
I expect you to do something physical to advance and promote the 14 words.
And by the way, sitting behind a computer posting to VNN or Stormfront is not doing something.
You know, as a digression here, I have occasionally mentioned the fifth Northwest novel that will most probably never be written because I don't have the time, having decided to devote the rest of my life to driving a nail with a marshmallow.
I imagine a scene from Book 5 where it's several years after the Revolution and the government of the Northwest Republic has finally gotten around to writing the official history of the War of Independence, recording who did what in the Revolution for the purpose of awarding War of Independence campaign ribbons, for the purpose of allocating things like veterans'pensions and survivors'benefits, recognized membership and official veterans'associations, and so forth and so on.
Anyway, up in Olympia, there's an office building we've taken over from the welfare people or something of the kind.
And in this building, there's some genuine old NVA veteran who maybe lost a limb in a rack, planted a few bombs and kept a few niggers and cops and fatties along the way.
A genuine old fighter who killed and bled and suffered for freedom, and now he's landed this gig as a kind of bureaucrat, which I suppose would happen to some degree in real life after we win.
Government jobs are a form of patronage and reward, after all.
Anyway, in this imaginary book of Chapter 5, one day, some weird-looking little guy with a tick comes into his office and says he wants to apply for official NVA veteran status, pension and all.
And the guy behind the desk says, okay, comrade, what was your brigade and company, and who was your company commander during the trouble?
And the weird little guy says, oh, I was, like, you know, never official.
And so the old fighter asks, well, what did you do during the Revolution?
And this idiot opens his briefcase and pulls out a sheaf of screenshots of blog posts.
And for these, he's claiming NVA rebel status and veterans benefits.
I've thought up several ways this scene could end, all of them quite imaginative, but you get the idea, I'm sure.
Someday, people, someone is going to ask you that question, even if it's God himself on the Day of Judgment.
What did you do to fight for white freedom, mister?
And for the sake of your own souls and every sense of the word, you'd better be able to give some answer besides pull out a sheaf of blog posts.
Getting back to what I expect you to do, first off, everyone you know should respect you personally and therefore by extension have at least some respect for your racial principles.
As with so much these days, a lot depends on what you don't do almost as much as what you do do.
The ability to restrain yourself from typical American behavior patterns will be one of your greatest advantages in life.
One of your primary duties as an individual in this struggle is to not act like white trash.
If people see you acting like trash, you will simply confirm the media stereotype.
I expect you people to restrain and discipline yourselves personally, sexually, alcohol-wise, and to not use drugs, to not beat up your wives or girlfriends or your children, to keep yourselves and your houses clean and neat, and like I said, don't act like white trash.
Don't just tell the world that you're better than niggers and Mexicans.
Show them.
I expect you to speak to your fellow white people, not just email them.
I'm talking about the white people you come into physical contact with every day, not just your little circle jerk of internet cronies that you hide among in the dark of your rec room.
Not just that clusterfuck on VNN.
I mean the real people you meet at work and in the laundromat and the grocery store checkout line.
By necessity, you will most always be speaking to these people privately, conversationally, on a one-to-one basis, but never deny who you are or what you believe.
You must speak calmly, rationally, and persuasively.
You must not shout.
You must not rave, as hard as that is sometimes not to do.
You must have at your command enough true and verifiable facts and anecdotes and critical talking points about what goes on in the real world, racially and otherwise, so that you can make a sensible case for the 14 words, not just muttering nigger nigger nigger kike kike kike under your breath.
I expect you to be of genuine physical help to your white friends and neighbors when they need it, and let them know that you are helping them out of racial solidarity.
Remember, the first step towards making someone respect your racial program is to make them respect you as a person.
If they don't respect you as a person, then it doesn't matter how brilliant your presentation is, they won't go for it, because they associate white nationalism with whatever it is you're doing wrong in your own life.
This is why I always insist on our self-proclaimed leaders actually living it, practicing what they preach.
We can't have leaders who embezzle donations to go gambling with, or who send naked pictures of themselves to women on the internet, or who bring Russian mail order brides here and then use them as punching bags.
I expect you to associate yourself with some kind of organized effort to bring about change.
Obviously, I'd prefer this to be the Northwest Front.
I won't tell you to join the Northwest Front because you can't.
We don't have members.
Which is one thing you should look for in a group, by the by.
But if, for whatever reason, you can't help us, then for God's sake, join or support someone or something.
This lone wolf stuff makes very entertaining fiction, but that's all.
In real life, it's crap.
There is no way in hell one lone individual acting on his own is ever going to make any kind of difference, except, of course, the one way that we're legally forbidden to speak of.
At some point in time, we are going to have to overcome our fear of one another and our fear of leaving the herd.
And we're going to have to learn to start working as a team.
I have people tell me all the time in various ways, Harold, I'll come to the Northwest, I'll be there with bells on, but I won't come until you can show me a safety net and promise me I will have a crowd to hide in.
Or words to that effect.
I expect you to be the safety net and you to provide the crowd for those to come.
I expect you to come here to the Northwest as soon as you possibly can, and until then, I expect you to wage a one-man guerrilla war against this society through actually doing things, but at the same time exercising common sense and maintaining your viability and your functionality in society.
And yes, it can be done.
I've been doing it on and off for 40 years.
Next question, sir.
When we say that the Northwest American Republic will be for whites only, does this include the people of Southern Europe?
I consulted my white book to look at the Citizenship section of the Constitution.
The relevant passages I saw are Section 1, Article 2, All White People of Any Nationality, Ethnicity, and Section 1, Article 4, Unmixed Caucasian Racial Dissent from Any One of the Historic Family of European Nations.
So does this include nations such as Italy, Sicily, Spain, Portugal, and Greece, whose natural citizens tend to have a more olive-toned skin?
Signed Ben from Vancouver.
Okay, I was wondering when this topic was going to come up.
It ranks about number four, I'd say, on the top ten list of things we really don't need to be worrying about right now, but given our white nationalist love of arguing about how many stormtroopers can dance on the head of a pin, and our even greater white nationalist love of dreaming up elaborate excuses and perfectly good reasons not to get down to work and avoid the heavy lifting, I knew it was inevitable.
Ben, don't worry.
I'm not ragging on you personally.
I know your question is sincere, and it is a legitimate one.
It's just that this is a red herring that's been coming up ever since I first got involved back in 1972.
Okay, before I go off into my long, digressive babble on this subject, I will give you the short and punchy answer first.
Race is not a matter of nationality or ethnicity or culture.
It is a matter of biology.
A white man is a white man, and a nigger is a nigger, no matter where they come from or what language they speak.
And contrary to what you see on stupid Hollywood movies or TV, in real life there is almost never any question.
Common sense and the evidence of your own eyes, people.
A white man or a nigger can be of any nation or religion or culture, and yes, that includes Muslim.
There are white and European Muslim nations such as the Chechens, the Bosnians, and the Albanians.
The Bosnians are definitely part of the European side of our heritage.
The Chechens, and in my opinion, the Albanians, are not.
They're Asiatic culturally, but we won't get into my reasons for saying that here because I don't want to be babbling on still at dawn tomorrow.
I'm from North Carolina, and there are all kinds of Covingtons from my neck of the woods.
Some of them are my relatives, and others of them are as black as the ace of spades, most likely the descendants of our family's slaves from before the war.
A lot of white Southern families have blacks from the same area with the same last name for that very reason.
Humanoids who, technically speaking, share something of a common background with us, but who are no relation at all biologically.
There's a lot of niggers in the South.
Does that mean that there are no white people left at all in Georgia or North Carolina or Texas?
Well, not yet anyway, give it another generation.
I had no hesitation at all a few weeks ago in speaking of the siege of the Alcazar in 1936 as one of our greatest military epics in the history of our race, and in playing the phalangist anthem Cara al Sol, which is in the Spanish language, because Spain is part of our European heritage, and a better part than most.
If you reject that, then you reject, among other things, the life and conquests of Hernán Cortés, one of the biggest badasses ever to come out of Europe, who conquered the Aztec Empire with 400 men, 20 matchlock muskets, and 17 horses.
Ferdinand and Isabella expelled the Jews from Spain in 1492, and they were not officially allowed back until 1968.
You see, I know that Hispanic is a culture, not a race.
Yes, most Latin Americans are mestizos to one degree or another, but I personally believe that there's at least two countries in South America that could be considered predominantly white countries, Argentina and Chile.
I'm told Uruguay is pretty pale too, although I don't know that much about it.
I'm not going to get into my reasons for holding this position, because once again, if we did, we'd be here all night.
Getting back to your question, Ben, yes, it is true that for some god-awful reason the Portuguese in Africa tended to marry and breed with niggers, and some of them ended up back in Lisbon.
It's true that in the remote past, the island of Sicily and the area of modern Greece were conquered by the Saracens and Turks, and during these centuries there was a heavy strain of Semitic and Turkic-Asiatic injected into the people and the culture of these places.
It's true that there are Sicilians and Greeks who are racially mixed, or who have predominantly Levantine genes, just like it was true that there are niggers named Covington back in North Carolina.
We would not admit into our new republic any of my family's former agricultural implements.
And neither would we admit anyone of Sicilian or Greek or any other nationality who is clearly not of our race.
So that's the short answer, if you can call that short.
Yeah, I know, if that's a short answer, you'd hate to hear a long one, right?
Anyway, time for a music break.
I have more to say on this subject, but it can wait.
In view of the topic under discussion, I considered playing the theme from The Sopranos, but actually that seems to be sung by niggers, and that would simply cause too much confusion and uproar if I played nigger music of any kind for any reason on here, so instead...
Here's another version of a Ralph Stanley song I played several weeks ago, and that's one thing about folk music.
There are any number of variations and versions of the same song, and some of them sound quite different from one another.
This is the Kingston Trio with Little Maggie.
*Music*
She's drinking away her troubles, oh Lord, and fooling another man.
How could I ever stand it just to see them two blue eyes?
Yuck, yuck, they shine just like the diamonds, like the diamonds in the sky.
Pretty flowers were made for blooming.
Pretty stars were made to shine.
Pretty girls were made for boys to love.
Surely Maggie was made for mine.
Well, yonder stands little Maggie with her grand glass in her hand.
She's drinking away her troubles, old Lord, and fooling another man.
Well, they marched me down to the station with my suitcase in my hand.
I'm going away for to leave you, my love, going to a far distant land.
Oh, well, sometimes I have a nickel and sometimes I have a dime.
And sometimes I have ten dollars, oh Lord, just to pay little Maggie's fine.
Well, you understand, little Maggie, with her grand glass in her hand.
She's drinking away her troubles, oh Lord, and fooling another man.
And fooling another man.
Okay, at the risk of not quitting while I'm ahead and getting myself into even more trouble, I need to expound on this whole thing about racial theory and who is white.
We need to do so because this subject keeps coming up as a kind of diversion.
I frankly question the motivation of a lot of people in the movement who raise this subject because they seem to be doing it mostly just to deliberately cause trouble and to stir as one of our many excuses to delay and avoid the task of getting on with this revolution thing when things might actually get hairy and dangerous and we might be called upon to really do things.
We all know that's what we need to be doing, but we're too frightened and timid, actually, to begin, and so we keep on looking for these little ideological nitpicks and pointless little disputes over nothing, so that we'll have an excuse to do nothing.
Oh, I can't possibly work with him.
He thinks people whose names end in vowels are white men, or vice versa, so forth and so on.
Again, I need to remind all of you that none of this is real.
It's not as if there's actually any kind of white resistance movement.
Although we are trying to get one going here in the Northwest.
Nobody in the movement is actually doing anything except the Northwest Front in a very small way so far.
So all this stuff we're talking is theoretical, mostly having to do with the Internet and these V-bulletin boards like Stormfront and VNN and the others.
That really is about the only place that the movement actually exists, if you can call cyberspace existing.
All this big hannahana and sound and fury is over nothing that has any existence in the real world, but unfortunately, as the history of Christianity and all its various sects and heresies and whatnot demonstrates, white men will fight just as bitterly over things that aren't real as they will over money or power.
Now, as many of you are probably vaguely aware, back in the 19th century, in Europe, there was an attempt to establish eugenics, the study of race, as a legitimate science.
This movement started with the works of Houston Stuart Chamberlain and then on to Oswald Spengler and, to a lesser extent, Friedrich Nietzsche, although, frankly, I think Nietzsche's always been very overrated.
That guy had more than a few screws loose.
Never mind.
This new racial science movement was mostly centered in Germany and, to a lesser extent, in Great Britain, Russia, and Scandinavia, and it involved the creation of all kinds of subclassifications of the white man himself into racial types or patterns.
Nordic, Alpine, Danaric, Baltic, Mediterranean, and so forth and so on.
I don't remember what all they were.
But you can still find old black-and-white photos of German professor types with big Nietzschean mustaches putting calipers on people's noses to measure their nasal cavities or on their ears to map out their earlobes or whatever.
This grew into a whole field of study before World War I, and then kind of got abandoned for a while after the first victory of liberalism in 1918, when everybody had more important things to worry about, like imminent Bolshevik revolution and whatnot.
The National Socialists took up some of it during the time of the Third Reich, but contrary to what you may have read, they were mostly interested in studying the Jews and the Jewish question, and not picky little differences between different breeds of Aryan.
Nor did they have anything against Slavs, which would be odd if they did, since hundreds of thousands of Poles and Hungarians and Russians and Romanians served in the Third Reich's armed forces.
And yes, I know, Romanians are a Latin people and not a Slavic one.
Anyway, what I'm getting at is that all of this stuff was basically a product of the academic spirit of intellectual inquiry in Central and Northern Europe during the middle of the 19th century.
It is 19th century science.
Some 19th century discoveries like pasteurization and anesthesia are still valid, while some beliefs like phlogiston and mesmerism are not.
My own view is that back in the genteel 1870s, in a stable and all-white Europe seeking arcane knowledge of our own nature and history, maybe this kind of thing was a luxury the white man could afford.
Today, it is not.
Today, our entire race is on the Titanic, we've hit the iceberg, and the ship is sinking.
Common sense, people, common sense.
As to who is white, you know who is white, or you ought to.
Apply the 60-second test.
If within the first 60 seconds of your meeting someone there's any doubt, then that's a warning sign.
As far as anyone of dubious racial ancestry wanting to get into your activity group or cell, well, that's one reason why we don't have application forms.
Remember, you don't join the party.
The party joins you.
Getting back to the question of who is white, if simple common sense and the evidence of your own eyes fails you, as it often fails white people of this time and place, I can tell you the standard that was used in South Africa under apartheid to get your blank burger card, your green-white citizenship card.
First off, you had to claim to be white.
Secondly, you had to be white.
In other words, if you were obviously colored, you wouldn't pass by saying you were white.
I can't recall the exact language they used for this, but it was basically, if you look like a nigger, you ain't fooling us.
This wasn't affirmative action in Boston.
Thirdly, you had to come up with a genealogical family tree, and you had to show, quote-unquote, community acceptance as European, and I'm not sure exactly how that went in practice.
The South African government made a few slips and classified some people as white that I myself would not have passed, but not very many.
The situation was especially dodgy down in the Cape province, with all the Cape coloreds, where sometime back in the 1890s or whenever the boss was getting himself a little brown sugar down in Cape Town, and we're talking about the grandchildren of a whole line of mixed breeds like that, but again, true borderline cases were very rare.
You look at somebody and you know.
In real life, the situation simply doesn't arise that often.
Common sense, people.
You know within 60 seconds of looking at someone what race they are.
We actually have a lot more problem with people who think it's alright to screw and marry Chinese.
We're starting to run into that a lot now with the Tea Party crowd.
A lot of these men seem to have imported mail-order brides from Hong Kong or Singapore or even the Philippines because American women are such bitches.
One final comment on this topic.
A little trip down Harold's memory lane.
Probably the finest individual soldier I ever personally knew was an officer in the Rhodesia Light Infantry, a lieutenant.
He was about 6 '3 and all muscle.
Red hair and mustache, green eyes, ruddy face.
The man looked like an oak tree in camouflage.
He could fire two MAGs, that was our belt-fed machine gun, one in each hand, and hit what he aimed at.
We are talking real-life African mercenary Rambo here.
He commanded his own special platoon, and he was one of the guys that Rhodesia sent in when there was serious heavy work to be done up on the sharp end.
When some of those murdering kaffirs attacked some isolated farmhouse or murdered some child up around Mount Darwin, he and his boys were the ones who tracked them down and killed them.
His name was Lieutenant Kostas Palentas, and he was a Greek from the island of Crete.
I would really like to have seen one of these amateur racial theorists go up to Palentas and try and tell him he wasn't white.
Okay now, off onto a completely different subject.
Characters in my books.
Our inveterate correspondent, Chris from Detroit, writes, Dear HAC, I've been re-reading The Hill of the Ravens.
Maybe I have a mean streak, or maybe 33 years of American life has just plundered the last shreds of my humanity, but the more I read about O.C. Aglevi, the more I like him.
Fine, he's depicted as a rampaging, kill-happy berserker, but like they said, Zog feared him.
That reminiscence about riding with his marauders on those chopped Harleys, shooting it out with gunships, raining carnage and metal.
I was imagining Steppenwolf's Born to be Wild like he suggested and laughed at how appropriate it was.
Then I read on and, duh, lo and behold, Oglevy and his crew used to blare it on speakers when they rode in to deal with dissidents.
Nice touch, so I'm liking it a lot.
And later on in another email, Chris asked if I could come up with a theme song for O.C. Oglevy, which, as we said, was Born to be Wild.
Okay, I guess Hill of the Ravens must be having a bit of a revival, because I've gotten quite a few favorable comments about the Oglevy character in the past couple of months.
He never actually appears in any of the novels, but he's referred to in all four.
I also have had requests to write another Northwest novel featuring O.C. Oglevy going berserk and burning down Idaho, and also requests for a theme song, like I said, which, as Chris mentioned, we already have, kind of, Born to be Wild by Steppenwolf.
And, by the way, yes, I pinched that character's name from a National Lampoon story in the 1970s before anybody points that out.
I do that sometimes.
I find a character I like or dislike, and I make him or her into something good or bad according to my own interpretation.
Like a lot of writers, I love messing with other writers' work.
Like I told Tom Sunick on Voice of Reason, the overwhelming reason I wrote the story Whisper Her Name on the Wind was my lifelong desire to fuck up Fiddler on the Roof.
Anyway, guys, I know most of you are into middle-aged Rambo revenge fantasies, or maybe not so middle-aged, and that's one of the things that makes my book so popular in movement circles, but I doubt I will ever do an O.C. Oglevy story.
You need to understand, a character like Oglevy is not only really unpleasant and repulsive in real life, they don't make good fiction either, except as a kind of pornography of violence.
They had a few like that in Ireland.
There was a UVF guy named Lenny Murphy who had his own crew in Belfast called the Shank Hill Butchers, and their specialty was kidnapping Roman Catholic cab drivers and torturing them to death.
Lenny eventually came to a sticky end.
I've read attempts to do fictional biographies or autobiographies of people like Vlad the Impaler and Caligula and Jack the Ripper and so forth and so on.
And other than the one overriding aspect of their lives, their homicidal activities, it's almost impossible for a writer to pull off because these characters are so shallow and one-dimensional and at the same time so completely unknowable, as contradictory as that sounds, that it's just impossible really to get a realistic grasp on someone like that.
To me, O.C. Oglevy was a minor literary device I needed for other things, but I'm simply not that interested in him to where I would want to write his story.
Jack the Ripper has always fascinated me, but he's a one-note symphony, if you understand what I'm saying.
So, would Oglevy be a one-note kind of guy?
And I want more than one note to work with.
Does that make any sense at all?
Do you get what I'm saying?
Now, moving on to another Northwest novel character.
Believe it or not, I actually seem to have developed a few literary groupies from these books, including some of our women comrades.
I don't do well with female characters as a rule.
Basically, I tend to make them act like I think women should act, which is mostly like men, and therefore my female characters aren't very realistic.
Nonetheless, some of my female characters from the Northwest novels seem to have developed small fan followings, specifically Nightshade from A Mighty Fortress, all among men.
But to my surprise, the female character who's developed something of a following among our women comrades is Rooney Wingfield from A Distant Thunder.
I've gotten several dozen favorable responses on Rooney from Women Readers since the book was published, and for us, that's a lot.
Several podcasts back, I already read out that one email from the lady who wanted Rooney to have her own theme music, which I provided in the form of an Appalachian banjo and fiddle piece called June Apple.
Now, Jackie Del Verum from Northern Ireland writes, Dear Harold, I was just rereading A Distant Thunder for about the sixth time, and I was struck once again by the entire sequence running from page 338 to page 354, wherein you describe the death and burial of Shane Ryan's wife Rooney.
I think it contains some of the most beautiful and moving passages I have ever read in any work of literature in the English language, especially the burial of Rooney on the lonely, rainy mountainside beneath the pine tree and her sister putting her stuffed toy from their childhood into the grave with her.
Some time ago, you sent me a cassette mixtape of theme or background music that you used while writing the novels, but I noticed that you didn't have anything for that part of Distant Thunder.
Can you select something and play it on Radio Free Northwest, and then tell me where I can get it so I can play it whenever I read that section again?
Wow, you're really into the whole depression thing, aren't you, Jackie?
Okay, I thought about it for a while, and this is what I came up with.
This is John Tams from the soundtrack of the British TV series Sharps Rifles.
It's called Love, Farewell.
I thought I heard the colonel crying March brave boys, there's no denying Cannons roaring,
drums are beating March brave boys, there's no retreating If I should fall in far-off battle Bugles call and
rifles rattle Thoughts fly home with words unspoken Valiant hearts are of times broken We're
Would this long and last forever kiss me now and leave me never?
Oh, farewell.
you you
I thought I heard the colonel crying March, brave boys There's no denying Cannons roaring Drums a-beating March,
brave boys And if that doesn't bum you out, I don't know what will.
A lot of the feedback I get off the internet on this whole idea of coming home to the Northwest deals with the financial and personal difficulties involved, especially with the Obama Depression coming on strong and likely only to get worse.
Point it out to me that I'm asking our people to pack up and leave what little security they may still have, i.e.
their homes and their jobs, and come here on spec.
People tell me that it's all very well for me to yak on and on about how the pioneers did it that way, but this isn't that era and we aren't pioneers.
Don't I know it.
Guys, I never said coming home was reasonable.
I said it was right.
I never said it would be easy.
I simply say that it has to be done.
Our race is in the position we're in today, largely because we have for too long taken the line of least resistance, because we've done what was reasonable and what was easy instead of what was right.
By doing so, we've gained some personal comfort and safety for a time, but now that's running out.
A friend of mine recently said that us baby boomers are a generation of sellouts.
Because essentially what we did is we sold our souls for 50 good years, the most comfortable and prosperous in history, but now the 50 good years are up and the devil has come to take his due.
I'm glad to report that there are still some white men who do have enough of the old stuff, the good stuff, the right stuff, to do what's right instead of what's easy.
We have a man arriving in our primary settlement area this week who's coming here using what's left of his life savings, and who, for various reasons I won't get into, is going to have a hard time getting established once he's here.
And although we'll help him in every way we can, I have to admit I'm worried about him.
But I'm confident that he'll make it because the very aspects of his character that made him take this step will ensure that he will be up to the challenges and that it'll keep his head above water.
Homecoming is hard.
Never think I don't understand how hard it is.
Remember, eight years ago I had to do it myself, you know.
True, the economy was much better in 2002.
I myself was hired at the first place I applied.
But that was then and this is now.
We have a nigger in the White House and a depression picking up steam, and so it's going to be a lot harder.
I know that.
I understand the risks, and yet I still ask you to do it, because it has to be done.
Because the survival of our race is at stake, and that trumps everything.
And while it's hard, it's not impossible.
The balloon hasn't gone up yet.
The internet is still working.
The economy has not yet totally collapsed, though it's wobbly.
And if you will just exercise some personal self-discipline along the lines of saving money and liquidating assets and plan the move out properly, then it's a lot more possible than you may think.
Our two present primary settlement areas are not in some totally depressed area way out in the boonies of eastern Oregon someplace.
In both localities, there's enough economic activity and infrastructure so that if you have a marketable skill, like I keep on at young white people to acquire, you'll be able to get a job here.
And if you have the proceeds of your previous home sale and a decent credit Of course, here we run into another one of those little character-related problems we never like to acknowledge.
The fact is that entirely too many people among the ranks of our so-called white nationalist movement do not have a marketable skill.
They dicked off in school and they've been marginally employed all their lives.
Few of them have to worry about selling their homes wherever they presently live because, judging from the addresses on our mailing list and also from the many years of experience I have, the bulk of them live in rented apartments or houses or trailers.
It's very tempting for me to go off into a long digression on this aspect of our character problem and why things are like that, but that's one of those topics that, while it definitely needs to be discussed, a reality that we need to come to terms with, I agree that this particular truth doesn't require being shouted from the rooftops.
And it doesn't need to be discussed in the hearing of the various hostiles we have listening to these podcasts.
But in a way, if you're not that well off and you don't have so many family ties, that should make relocating that much easier for you.
You'll still have to exercise a reasonable amount of self-discipline and organization and bring some order to your disorderly life.
Not least, it is highly recommended that you lay aside the whiskey bottle and the six-pack.
It's very hard to save up money quickly when you've got $50 a week or so draining away into the liquor store or the local mini-mart.
Little things like that.
But if you're listening to this, presumably you have a computer, so that's your job search begun right there.
I've never denied that the internet does have uses, and if you choose one of the primary settlement areas, then we can give you at least some help now, and later on, when the party grows and we get the drill down, we'll be able to help incoming migrants even more.
Ah, what the hell, third music break.
Let's pick something light to clear away the gloom and doom from that last number.
This is Farewell to Aaron by Modena.
The End
I've gotten a number of emails over the past week or so asking me to comment on the new law passed in Arizona recently, which finally empowers local and state police to enforce the immigration laws by making it a state criminal offense to be in this country illegally.
At long last, somebody can take action against the invasion on the ground where the Beaners live and actually start putting a stop to this contamination and getting some of these creatures the hell out of here, if they are allowed to do so, which probably they won't be.
The law has over 70% approval from the population of Arizona, which I think if you did a matchup would pretty much equate to the whole of the white population of the state.
Needless to say, everybody from a bongo on down has been screaming like stuck pigs over this law.
Al Sharpton says he's going to march in the streets out there.
The nigger attorney general says he's going to challenge it in court to get it struck down, so forth and so on.
Of course, the first step in any court challenge will be an injunction from a federal judge prohibiting the cops in Arizona from actually arresting any illegals, and so I very much doubt if this new law will lead to a single deportation.
Nonetheless, it's a step in the right direction, and it's a good gauge as to just how pissed off white people are finally starting to become.
I think a lot of people are just now coming around to the realization, my god, we've got a nigger in the White House!
In this, as in so much else, I keep hearing this business of, maybe now white people will finally wake up.
I heard it a lot back when Obongo defrauded his way into the Oval Office in 2008.
Maybe this is what it will take for white people to wake up, they said.
I heard it again during the so-called healthcare reform debate.
Well, maybe now, when the regime is actually coming to take white people's money and give it to blacks and illegals in the form of healthcare, white people will finally wake up.
Okay, I agree.
I think we're getting there.
White people are finally starting to wake up.
The Tea Party movement as well seems to be an indication of something of the kind happening.
Okay, let's say we reach a point where whites are finally awake, however we define that.
Then what?
We've been saying for years that we want white people to wake up, but wake up to what end?
Once we are awake, what the hell do we do about all this?
Vote Republican?
We just came out of eight years of that lunacy.
Have we really forgotten Jug Ears and his little Jewish neocon friends so soon?
So once white people are awake, what do we do if not vote Republican?
Vote for anybody?
There's nobody to vote for.
Part of being awake, so-called, has to be a realization on our part that it's not the party in power or the politicians or even the ideologies such as they are that are the problem.
It is the entire system that is hopelessly corrupt from top to bottom and which must be replaced.
For once, a state government has finally done what the white people of that state want it to do.
And now the entire force of the federal government is being marshaled to put a stop to it.
So much for democracy.
So much for the rule of law.
These things are a cheat.
But then they always were.
It is the United States of America itself which is irreparably and irredeemably broken, and it is the United States of America itself which must go.
The United States no longer works as it was intended by the founding fathers, who would be horrified at what is happening today in the country they created to the people they created it for.
If men like George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin were still alive today, they would be the first to urge us to rebel as they did against King George.
It's up to us to heed that call, to measure up to those men in their greatness and their courage, and to once more stand up against tyranny and create a new nation here on this North American continent where our racial destiny lies.
Well, our time is up, 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.
Until then, Sasha Anenban.
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