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March 3, 2011 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
01:04:51
20110303_rfn
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Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so.
Push your vocal, push 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 more roar for signal, token whistle, out the marching tune, for your 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 throbbing for the blessed warming light.
passed along the valleys like the man she's lonely crew, and a thousand plays were flashing at the rising of the moon.
It's March the 3rd, 2011.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
The Rising of the Moon There beside the singing river That dark mass of men were seen Far above their shining weapons On their own beloved green Death to every foe And traitor forward Strike the marching tune And hurrah, my voice for freedom Is the rising of the moon Okay, we're back to beginning this show with an Edgar Steele update.
A couple of developments in the case.
The trial is still scheduled to begin on Monday, March the 7th.
At this point, it doesn't look like I myself am going to be able to attend, although originally I wanted to.
The reasons are that up until fairly recently, there was a chance that the trial could be delayed again or moved.
The defense applied for a change of venue last week, and even now that could still happen.
Edgar Steele's friends and supporters might show up in court on Monday morning at 9 o 'clock and find a piece of paper taped to the courtroom door telling them that the trial has been postponed again or moved altogether.
I've heard of that happening.
The second reason I won't be able to attend is that we're at the end of winter doldrums, and I'm a little bit short on the shekels, so I wouldn't have the money for a trip to Coeur d 'Alene, even if the trial does happen on schedule.
As it happens, the judge denied the defense request for a change of venue to Wyoming on grounds of prejudicial pre-trial publicity.
That was a nice try, but I don't expect the defense attorney really expected to get it.
He's probably just laying the grounds for his appeal, which is a depressing way of looking at it, but it's what defense lawyers do.
Steele was arrested in Idaho for a reason.
The government wants an Idaho jury that they can wave the Aryan nation's flag under their nose and get them to convict Ed Steele, because if they don't, Ariana Huffington and Katie Couric might call them racists.
The prosecution, in turn, is now asking for an all-expenses-paid trip to the Ukraine, because they've changed their story yet again.
They're scrambling for a motive now.
They claimed originally that the alleged motive for Steele to hire Larry Fairfax to kill his wife and his mother-in-law was financial, in order to get a big insurance settlement from the deaths of both women.
But that got blown out of the water when Cindy Steele revealed that there was no life insurance and hadn't been for several years.
And, of course, Edgar was quite well aware of the fact.
So, all of a sudden, not only were the feds left with a fumbling hitman like something out of the Three Stooges as their star witness, but they were left without a motive.
Now they've come up with some Ukrainian honey, whom they claim Ed Steele was courting online through a Russian mail-order bride service or some such nonsense, and they're claiming that his motive for hiring Fairfax as the so-called hitman was that Ed wanted to be free of his wife so he could hook up with this young nuke chick that he'd never met.
You can see how bad they're stretching, because without a motive, all they've got are the fabricated tapes.
The U.S. Attorney now wants to send a team of lawyers and stenographers and a whole entourage to the Ukraine, at taxpayers' expense, of course, to take a deposition from this woman, although if they get that, then I'm not sure how the defense is supposed to cross-examine her, never mind the fact that if she's not in the country, she can't be threatened with perjury.
But perhaps a missing witness suits the prosecution just fine.
Anyway, if the government gets their free Obama-style vacation to Kiev, then that will also have the effect of postponing the trial even longer.
By the time the trial begins, Steele will have been in prison for nine months at least.
During much of that time, he has been held virtually incommunicado.
I've already published on two of my websites his new address at the Bonner County Jail, where Ed can now receive actual letters instead of postcards only.
Which was an interesting little innovation that they thought up in the Spokane County federal lockup just for Ed.
After all, we can't have a political prisoner getting too many letters of support from white people, now can we?
That's one thing that's always puzzled me about this case.
The really terrible persecution and mistreatment that Ed Steele has undergone at the hands of the regime and the regime's secret police.
It should be obvious by now to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that the man is innocent.
That includes this U.S. attorney, Tracy Whelan.
You don't get into a position like that by being a complete idiot.
Well, maybe you do, but still this woman has got to know perfectly well by now that she's prosecuting an innocent man for something he didn't do.
You can't convince me for one minute that she believes the rambling and incoherent story of Larry Fairfax, or believes that he quote-unquote accidentally forgot to tell the FBI that he'd already attached a bomb to Cindy Steele's car.
And yet she persists in this case, denying Steele bail, holding him virtually incommunicado, and even changing the rules in the Spokane County Jail to make sure that he doesn't receive letters of support.
Looks like they're trying to break him.
This clearly goes beyond any so-called legal case.
This is a personal persecution in pursuit of a political agenda.
Anyway, the trial is still scheduled to start next week, and so a lot of these Radio Free Northwest podcasts over that time will be devoted to the steel case.
So, make sure you tune in every week.
Now, unlike certain internet blog lords and certain knights who say v-bulletin, This email is from Aaron in Pennsylvania.
Dear HAC.
The following was a comment I was going to post following your podcast of February the 3rd.
I decided not to because I didn't want it perceived that I was contradicting you.
It is in regards to why I believe that the abstract concept of extinction of the white race fails to motivate us.
I felt I should at least try to convey it to you with the thought that it might expose an alternative incentive to pitch.
If you see any truth in it, I apologize for the length.
I also wanted to add that I thought it was peculiar that you haven't yet commented on British Prime Minister David Cameron's assertion that multiculturalism has failed.
Even if he never acts on it, I thought it was groundbreaking in bringing newly acceptable language to the discussion.
Take care, Aaron.
And Aaron's actual post is as follows.
I'd like to thank HAC for the Radio Free Northwest, as well as Mike from Pennsylvania, where I am too, for the positive feedback.
I'm always for pushing success stories for all they're worth and hammering the positive notes inherent in the Northwest Front mission.
I guess the thrill of revolt appeals to many, and others, including me to be honest, are driven by the negative reaction to the status quo.
But for me, I am perhaps foolishly unable to accept extinction as a possibility.
It's not even a viable thought in my head.
To even conceive of it creates an impossible dissonance in my mind.
Focusing on potential extinction would create an incoherence in goals and values.
It's not enough to keep from dying.
As HAC would say in a different context, to me it's advance, advance, advance.
In my mind, the threat of extinction isn't strong enough because, by definition, no one suffers extinction.
They're already dead.
Far worse than the death of the race is the dying.
I can't opt out of death, but the idea of being a minority?
Suffering my old age in the care of savages, the company of troglodytes, and complete irreversible isolation from the white world I came from in my final days?
Now that gets my attention.
That's definitely something I would be alive to suffer.
Extinction would only be a release from the death wish some speculate to be inherent in our species.
I also don't see any extant races of modern humans.
A creature either literally conforms to the definition homo sapiens, or it doesn't.
Not quite sure what he means by that.
I mention this because Mike closes with something that got my attention that rang harmony in my thoughts.
He addressed how superior it would be to raise white children in the Northwest.
I've considered that perhaps the mind cannot really grasp extinction.
It can barely wrap itself around one's own death, and to grasp extinction implies empathy to the fate of abstract strangers.
If the last ten aging, sick, and old white people left on Earth were living in the same house on an island somewhere, Watching the world crumble and spending the days meticulously gardening the flowers around their future grave plot, I'm not convinced that any of them would really have a sense of what extinction is, even then, even when it's the last guy looking at nine other graves.
He'd take stock of a situation that he could not change by then, and rationalize it somehow as acceptable.
And in his death throes, even then, he would only be thinking about his own departure from the world.
Which he had probably contemplated for some time, possibly even when there had been a chance to stop his race's extinction.
A man doesn't suffer death, he only suffers dying, and even then only his own.
And it's not the same as bereavement, which is what at some level we're all suffering now.
As a 1984 literary analogy, it's the difference between Winston allowing rats to eat off his face, or simply offering Julia as sacrifice to suffer in his stead.
The latter is to simply disassociate from everyone and everything you believe in to avoid the former, actually experiencing the pain yourself.
Orwell suggests that people are inevitably more inclined to accept isolation than pain.
In our case, nameless, faceless future white descendants are Julia, and the rats are the dread terror of sacrificing our own comfort to confront and terminate the status quo of Zog in America.
Pardon the oxymoron.
So extinction doesn't move me.
I'm not sure if the fault is in my biological constitution or my character.
If extinction were to occur at the end of my life, after it, or tomorrow, it feels too big to control, resist, or defeat.
But pain?
Pain I understand.
I wade through so many niggers every day just across the street that me and my white neighbors actually refer to our apartment building as the Embassy.
Irritation, aggravation, resentment, even rage, all very present tense emotional compulsions in the here and now.
And while extinction of whites in a future world after I'm gone may be too abstract to have genuine feelings about one way or the other, with any legitimately sincere comprehension, the bereavement in the present tense is already here.
And although I literally can't imagine a world without whites being a concept too big and horrific to grasp, I can very well see a visible horizon in the timeline of my own life and perhaps even those of children today.
And what I see is pain.
The pain of being a minority among savages.
The pain of watching today's children grow into languishing, persecuted adults tomorrow whose only crime is being superior in constitution instead of numbers among those jealous and innumerable savages.
I can imagine the end of my life tenuously sustained in old age at the brutal hands of some negro health care worker.
Even today I worry that if I should ever need emergency medical attention that I may open my eyes in an ambulance only to see a pair of simians glaring at me in paramedic outfits.
These are all very real palpable things that precede the abstracts of extinction both chronologically and in immediate relevance to my own ego.
So I'm mentioning this not because I feel extinction is of less importance, but because I can't help but imagine that I'm not alone in this view and that to address extinction as a motivation or incentive may simply not be ringing the bells in other people's minds.
Further, I might suggest that a more powerful incentive is to remind us of the pain we will inevitably face, as well as the pain of our children.
As Orwell seems to suggest, pain gets our attention and action when abstract values and philosophies do not.
Sorry for the length.
Thank you for your time.
First off, Aaron, as to why I didn't say anything about David Cameron's comments about multiculturalism failing, I'll be much more impressed when he actually does something to stop Britain from being overrun with wogs and begins repatriating all of the wogs and niggers who are there.
Otherwise, just like everything else, whatever he says is just bloviation, as Warren Harding put it.
The thing about establishment politicians, Aaron, is that one must always ignore whatever they say.
It's meaningless.
Always look at what they do.
When David Cameron actually does something about returning his country to white control under a white population, get back to me.
Secondly, I like your 1984 reference.
I'm always glad when I get some sign that somebody out there is reading books above a graphic novel level.
And you did indeed home in on one of the most important parts of 1984, possibly the most important passage where the human development of the characters is concerned.
The point where Winston Smith is finally called upon to face his worst terrors in Room 101, and instead he offers up Julia as a sacrifice, and thus saves his face from the rats.
Since, of course, that was the reaction that the politically correct state wanted to get from him by threatening him with the rats in the first place.
Yes, you're quite correct, Aaron.
Most white people can't comprehend the idea of their own extinction as a race, and they can't envision the kind of world it'll be in a hundred years.
I can, and I've been able to envision that horror for quite some time now.
And by word of explanation to all of you, I should mention, if at times it seems like I'm really flipping out on here, or on the blogs, or in some of my emails, if it looks to you like I'm letting my emotions run away with me...
Then it's precisely because I can envision that terrible extinction, and because I get so enraged and frustrated at my inability to impart any kind of a sense of urgency about all this, that sometimes I climb the walls, metaphorically speaking.
And yes, you're also correct in your assertion that I probably need to shift my focus to less abstract and more immediate personal concerns of the people we're trying to win over.
People who can be swayed by purely ideological and theoretical arguments are few and far between.
And people who can be stirred to actual physical action by such arguments are fewer still.
Now don't worry, I'll get it right one day.
I'm like a guy who's sitting in a car that I know full well is in good running order, and that I also know has a full tank of gas, and yet I keep turning the key and the darn thing still won't start.
And all I get is that "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" sound, so I have to keep on popping the hood, and dealing with the battery terminals, and pumping the accelerator.
Okay, first music break.
I've been getting a lot of requests for more saga, so here's Land of Ice.
The land of the north that is full of pride Hearts full of fire, forest full of snow Always made welcome by But
we shake their hands.
Swear to keep Well,
we have a commentary this week from one of our comrades in Portland, Oregon named Brian.
So here he is.
Good day, comrades.
My name is Brian.
I live in the Portland metro area.
Today I'd like to talk to you all about coming home and why everyone needs to make this trip.
To begin, I'd like to explain my situation so that you can better understand where I'm coming from.
I was born in Portland, Oregon some 20 plus years ago.
Moved to Alaska, and then I came back home in about...
Why did I come back home?
That's an easy and complex answer, so I'll just go into the basics of what I understand of why I came back.
I love the Northwest.
I feel quite a connection to the area.
I've been a few places around the world, and I've come to the realization that this is the best place on Earth.
Climate-wise, culture-wise, people-wise, for the most part, it is the best that I have seen.
You know, this land just calls to me.
I love it.
It's in my blood.
I feel this land is the best place on Earth for the formation of what I hope will only be the first of many all-white countries.
Where Jew lies would just be a sad chapter in our glorious history.
So now on to the main question.
Why should you move to the Northwest now?
Today?
Not tomorrow?
Well, there's several reasons to get your butt out here and say what's very much more important than a Happy Meal or a PS3.
So we're going to go over a couple reasons.
We have a lot of conveniences in this world, you know.
We've gone across them too.
Living outside our means.
Instant food and entertainment.
Life is going from bad to worse everywhere because of this.
But in the Northwest, things, while bad, are not far off from the norm.
Unlike the extremes elsewhere.
Ohio, Detroit, Michigan.
The winter has not been too out of the ordinary.
Unlike the 2,000 mile storms and people freezing and drowning everywhere else.
The economy, while of course bad, is not quite as bad as everywhere else in general.
And a few places in the Northwest are actually doing quite well, still with service and consumer jobs for the unskilled.
While not numerous, you know, they are out there.
As long as you have a skilled trade, you will be living better off here than most all of the rest of America.
Touching on that, I should get into what I perceive as the main excuse for not getting your butt out here.
And doing something for both...
Your ancestors and your offspring at the same time.
The quote I hear a lot is, "But I swear I will move out here just as soon as I get done with this degree I'm getting." I want to say first that I myself am going to school shortly, and there's nothing wrong with getting that little scrap of paper that means so little, yet can give you so much.
First off, to counter this excuse of having to get your butts up here and saving the greatest presents on this earth from extinction: the white rays.
I'd like to say that it is very, very easy to transfer credits from school to a school.
I think around here I've seen it cost $50.
It may cost more or less for official transcripts to get transferred.
Plus, if you go into a school that has credits that will not transfer, then you go into a BS degree mill that won't help you anyhow.
They're just after your money.
Secondly, the schools here in the Northwest are very top-notch, very numerous.
You know, like anywhere in the country, especially in the big cities around here, they are very, very PC-filled.
But, unlike most places, though, only the big cities of Seattle and Portland and their surrounding area are jam-packed with faggots, niggers, and spigs.
Although you will find a few of them in all colleges, and in eastern Washington and Oregon, there's a lot of spigs.
But eastern Washington, in my experience, has some very nice schools, and very few faggots, which I know bother me a lot.
Remember, the only way to achieve a goal is through hard work and perseverance.
Now, for the past several months, I've been learning to use Facebook in order to promote the Northwest migration.
And by the way, I'm on Facebook as Harold Covington, for those of you who want to join my friends list.
I think I've got something like 750 friends on my list so far, and the vast majority of whom simply lurk and whom I never hear from, which is pretty much par for the course as far as anything we do on the Internet.
I'm getting some inquiries off Facebook, including this one from a guy named Matt.
Dear Mr. Covington, I was looking into ordering your books online.
Saw your name floating around and mention of the books.
But I have to be careful about what I get as I'm active duty military and I have a sensitive job, blah blah blah blah.
Those are his blahs, by the way.
Do your books, by any chance, contain blatantly racist terms or anything that could get me slapped on the wrist?
Also, what exactly is the blue, white, and green flag that you have all over?
Okay, last question first, Matt.
I have to remind myself that thanks to Facebook and the website, a lot of people are now seeing the Northwest tricolor for the first time.
That, my friend, is the flag of our new Northwest nation.
It's a simple tricolor design, like many in Europe, and I deliberately avoided placing anything in the white center field that might be considered divisive or sectarian.
No swastikas, no crosses, no crinklejammers of any kind.
No vegetation or animal pictures, nothing except the three solid colors.
Blue for the sky, green for the land, and white for the people who live in between.
I would have done it with horizontal bars, but unfortunately that flag is already taken by the nigger nation of Sierra Leone.
Eventually, when we get some boots on the ground here in the Northwest in the form of people who are willing to come out from behind the computer and actually do things, I want our units here in the Northwest to engage in what's known in Germany as Fahnenaktionen.
Flag actions, wherein the tricolor is run up flagpoles and hung from bridges, so forth and so on, displayed in various ways, until the people come to recognize the tricolor as the flag of their new country.
The blue, white, and green tricolor must become a symbol of white youth rebellion known the world over.
Hell, we don't even have to get anybody to come out from behind their computers to do that.
We could establish the tricolor in the minds of white youth as a symbol of rebellion while continuing to sit behind our computers in Florida and Scotland and Cincinnati and Texas or wherever.
If only I could get people out of the passive mode long enough to post a little every day, and not just sit there and absorb whatever is on the monitor like their brains were sponges.
The big advantage of the internet is supposed to be that it's interactive, but the overwhelming majority of white people, even on the internet, don't interact at all.
They surf, they lurk, they watch it like a TV.
Well, never mind.
I've been over all that before.
Now, it's the question of, are there racist words in my novels?
Uh, yeah.
One of the things that the authorities at the Coffee Creek Women's Prison in Oregon are attempting to do is cut all the female inmates in there off from any contact with the Northwest Front, and when they reject copies of the Northwest novels, either they or the inmates send me copies of the rejection slips.
And those documents cite specific words on specific pages as being forbidden or quote-unquote against public interest.
Usually the words concerned are nigger and faggot.
You know, sometimes I wonder why we even bother to have a constitution when any petty bureaucrat can determine for themselves what the public interest is and override it.
Anyway, I don't flatter myself that the warden at Coffee Creek has just sat down in her office and read the brigade.
Obviously, the guards just flick through whatever copy I send or I have sent to one of the women there direct from the publisher, and it doesn't take them long to find words in the book that are quote-unquote contrary to public interest.
So, yes, Matt, your military censors will probably be able to find such words in my books as well.
The parameters of the First Amendment are shrinking year by year.
Now it's slave laborers in the camps who are forbidden to read certain books or think certain thoughts.
And soon it's going to be the military, if not already.
To cut to the nub of your question, Matt, can I guarantee that you won't get in trouble and your job and your paycheck won't be at risk if you're found in possession of one of my Northwest novels?
Not at all.
Reading one of my books is taking a risk.
If you try to bring one across the border into Canada, it will be confiscated, and if the Customs Guard is black or Muslim, he may just arrest you for shits and giggles.
No joke, Matt, there really are dangerous and forbidden books in the world.
I should know.
I wrote four of them, and I'm working on a fifth right now.
Next email comes from Jesse in, oh Jesus, Alaska?
I'm sorry Jesse, I know you sent me your address and I sent you an intro packet, but for obvious reasons I don't keep written records and I can't for the life of me remember where you are, for which I apologize profusely.
Anyway, Jesse asked a very good question.
Dear HAC, can you explain the Iron Dream?
What exactly do you mean by the Iron Dream as opposed to the American Dream?
Okay, I know exactly what I want to say here, and I suspect that most of you guys out there have at least some understanding of what I mean when I utter that particular little aphorism, or aphorism, I'm not sure how you pronounce that.
But the question is, how do I articulate what I mean by the Iron Dream as opposed to the American Dream without going off into a long battle for the next two hours that will probably just leave all of you confused?
The American Dream, I think every one of us listening to this is familiar with because it's what we've all been brought up to serve and believe all our lives.
All of us probably have some slightly different concept in our minds as to what the American Dream is.
But basically, it involves immense material wealth on a scale never before known in human history.
I don't think Americans understand exactly how well we live in the 21st century compared to the rest of the world and compared to our own ancestors.
King Henry VIII may have dressed in furs and brocade and chewed on mutton legs and had the power to give inconvenient ladies the chop, but the average white family living in a double-wide mobile home these days lives better than Henry did in his palace with the disease-spreading pit latrines.
An American double-wide has central heat, an air conditioner in the window, and a refrigerator so food doesn't go rotten after three days, and we have antibiotics so that most of our children these days actually survive their first year of infancy, so forth and so on.
Or look at how third-world peoples live today in Africa or Asia or South America, quite literally in a mud or bamboo hut, and that's it.
Why do you think they're all trying to overrun our country and take what we've got, what we've built?
Because they want the American dream.
They see it on TV and they are willing to pay thousands of dollars to run the border with coyotes or lie for six weeks in the bilge of a tramp steamer from Hong Kong so that they can come here and take that dream away from us.
That much about immigration is true.
The American dream is, and pretty much always has been, the dream of unfettered and unlimited material wealth and luxury.
The two cars in the garage, the swimming pool, the big plasma screen TV, Saturdays on the golf course with some caddy humping a bag of clubs that cost more than he makes in six months, eating out every night in a different restaurant so the wife never has to learn to cook.
Do you know that some yuppies will live in a house or a condo for two or three years or more and then move out and there's not a spot in the sink or a smudge in the oven?
Because they've never touched the kitchen?
Henry VIII had hundreds of servants to make sure he never had to cook his own meals.
We've got Applebee's and Domino's and Ching Ling Ding's Chinese takeaway three blocks down.
Okay, you get what I'm saying.
By the standards of everybody else, Americans are filthy rich beyond anyone's wildest dreams.
But beyond money and luxury, the American dream is more than that.
It's the whole American way of complete irresponsibility and uncontrolled excess, of never having to conserve anything, of never having to plan more than ten minutes ahead, of being able to waste anything we want, as much as we wanted, of never, ever being held accountable for our actions by anyone.
One of the reasons we have so many lawyers is that we spend so much of our time suing each other In order to avoid having to accept that bad things that happen to us are either our own damn fault or else they're just simply acts of God.
We'd sue God if we could, and an American jury would probably award us damages, since nothing is ever our fault.
Being an American means never having to say you're sorry.
Okay, I'm teetering on the edge here of going off into a tirade about everything that's wrong with America, and if I do that, we'll be here all night.
So, forcing myself kicking and screaming back to Jesse's question, the American dream is the dream of the body, the material world.
In its good aspects, the dream of plenty and freedom from want and hardship for you and your family.
In its bad aspects, the dream of waste, irresponsibility, narcissism, and personal greed.
The dream wherein it's all about me, me, me, and to hell with anything higher than my desires and my appetites.
It's the world I described in last week's program, wherein I am the center of the universe and I'm a big baby whose every craving must not only be satisfied, but it has to be satisfied now, now, now.
A few years ago, last time I had cable television, there was an ad on there for something.
I can't remember what.
Seems to me it was something electronic.
But there was a slogan or theme song on that advertisement that describes the American Dream to a T. I won't try to sing it, but I remember the words, and I'm sure some of you will remember this ad.
The lyrics were, That's the American Dream defined, Jesse.
I remember another little saying I used to see on office walls back when I was a cubicle dweller, and I quote, Life is a game, and whoever dies with the most toys wins.
That, too, is the American dream, summed up in one single sentence.
I know people, and you do too, not bad people, just confused and kind of sad, who honestly do believe that life is a game, the object of which is to accumulate the most toys and then die.
Is there any concept more American than that?
Finally, there's another pithy little saying that reduces the American dream to its bare essentials.
Don't work hard, work smart.
Here we have the essential creed of capitalism, and it's got nothing to do with freedom of the market or any kind of freedom.
Find some way to get someone else to do all the work while you reap the profit.
That, too, is the American dream.
Look at the way we revere people like Donald Trump and Bill Gates and Rush Limbaugh, who have earned millions and actually produced nothing themselves.
They're guys who have learned to work not hard, but smart.
Now, the Iron Dream.
That's harder to define and describe to you, Jesse, because it's been so long since the world has seen it.
The last white man who dreamed the Iron Dream died or went into hiding in 1945.
In my lifetime, I've caught glimpses of it on occasion in living people and in events, but mostly it's something I see in the past.
I don't think anybody really dreams the Iron Dream anymore, not even people that you'd expect to do so, like the Chinese or Muslim jihadists or the Israelis.
I suppose that's some consolation.
Everybody seems to have lost the Iron Dream, not just white people.
Everybody seems to be lost, and if we here in the Northwest can be the first to get our act together and recover the Iron Dream, then we'll win for sure.
I have said that the American Dream is the dream of the body.
I would be tempted to say that the Iron Dream is the dream of the soul or the heart, but that wouldn't be true, not completely.
I think the Iron Dream is composed of equal parts of mind, heart, and soul.
Whereas the American Dream is composed of material things like a new car every year or a bag of Doritos, the Iron Dream is composed of thought, of principle, of intellectual imperative to penetrate the secrets of the world if you're a scientist or an explorer.
Or if you're of a religious bent, sometimes the Iron Dream is composed of an overwhelming compulsion to find God and to know His will and to do it on Earth.
The American Dream is a single dream, including only oneself and a small number of individuals, family members, a few loved ones, so forth and so on.
The Iron Dream is much larger.
It often encompasses everyone and everything.
The American Dream seeks to feed the belly, both in the literal and the spiritual sense.
The Iron Dream seeks to change, or at least affect, the whole world.
The American Dream is about how someone exists.
The Iron Dream is about how someone lives.
Does that make any sense at all?
Okay, I'm gabbling here.
Let's see if I can think of a few short, pithy sayings to encapsulate the Iron Dream like I did with the American Dream.
Well, to start off with, there's always the dictum of the Roman emperor and philosopher Marcus Aurelius.
And I quote, If it is not true, do not say it.
If it is not right, Do not do it.
Boy, wouldn't our movement be something if we could all take that to heart, huh?
Then there's something else I recall that young women in New England used to embroider on their samplers to be framed and hung up in the parlor.
And I quote, I slept and dreamed that life was beauty.
I woke and found that life was duty.
That's getting there, iron dream-wise, I think.
Then there was the time when the Persian emperor and his huge army were on their way to invade Greece, and they found their way blocked at the pass at Thermopylae by King Leonidas of Sparta and 300 men.
The Persian emperor sent a messenger saying that he would kindly let them live if they would give up their weapons.
The Spartan king sent back two words, Molan labe, come and take them.
Now that's definitely Iron Dream material.
Will any of us ever have the courage to say Molan Labbe to the FBI or the ATF or the police, or the United States Marines if necessary?
I write about such men and women in my novels as fictional characters, but will we ever see that in real life?
I hope so.
Look, I'm sorry, I need to cut this topic off, because otherwise I really will use up the rest of the program on it, and I have other things I want to talk about.
It's time for the second music break anyway.
Music.
To the town of Aprile, wrote a stranger one fine day.
Hardly spoke to folks around him, didn't have too much to say.
No one dared to ask his business, no one dared to make a slip.
The stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip, big iron on his hip.
It was early in the morning when he rode into the town.
He came riding from the south side, slowly looking all around.
He's an outlaw, loose and running, came the whisper from each lip.
And he's here to do some business with a big iron on his hip.
Big iron on his hip.
In this town there lived an outlaw by the name of Texas Red Many men had tried to take him and that many men were dead He was vicious and a killer, though a youth of twenty-four And the notches on his pistol numbered one in nineteen more One in nineteen more Now the stranger started talking,
made it plain to folks around Was an Arizona Ranger, wouldn't be too long in town He came here to take an outlaw back alive or maybe dead And he said it didn't matter, He was after Texas Red, after Texas Red.
Wasn't long before the story was relayed to Texas Red.
But the outlaw didn't worry men, they tried before were dead.
Twenty men had tried to take him, twenty men had made a slip.
Twenty-one would be the ranger with a big iron on his hip.
Big iron on his head The morning passed so quickly It was time for them to meet It was twenty past eleven When they walked out in the street Folks were watching from the windows Everybody held their breath They knew this handsome ranger Was about to meet his death About to meet his death
There It was forty feet between them when they stopped to make their play.
And the swiftness of the ranger is still talked about today.
Texas red is not cleared leather for a bullet fell he ripped.
And the ranger's aim was deadly with a big iron on his hip, big iron on his hip.
It was over in a moment and the folks had gathered round.
There before them lay the body of the outlaw on the ground.
Oh, he might have went on living, but he made one fatal slip When he tried to match the ranger with a big iron on his hip, big iron on his hip.
Big iron, big iron, when he tried to match the ranger with a big iron on his hip, big iron on his hip.
Big iron, big iron on his hip.
Dear HAC, what do you think about what's going on now in Wisconsin?
Well, Leland, I think that what we're seeing there in Madison with the public sector unions jumping and shouting and carrying on and...
The Democratic state legislators fleeing from the state rather than go in and accept their responsibility to do what's necessary to bail the state out of bankruptcy.
All this is something we're going to be seeing a lot more of over the next year as the states and most major American cities start to go down the tubes under the collective weight of generations of financial incompetence and corruption and jiggery-pokery on the part of the two-party system.
Mostly Democrats, to be sure, but let's never forget that Republicans are just as bad in their corruption and incompetence department.
Already, we're seeing signs of it beginning elsewhere outside Wisconsin.
The city of Detroit just closed one half of their city schools.
The city of Providence just laid off all 1,900-odd teachers employed by the city, and after they work out next year's budget, they'll decide how many teachers they can hire back.
In New Jersey and Pennsylvania, small and medium-sized towns are laying off half their police forces and firefighters, and in some cases, all of them.
This could well be the beginning of a slide into the kind of collapse that right-wingers have been referring to for the past 50 years as when the balloon goes up.
I'm just kind of surprised it started in Wisconsin and not Illinois or California or New York.
I always figured that one of those three big blues would be the first to go under, which is essentially what's happening in Wisconsin right now.
The fact is that the Republican governor, Scott Walker, cannot give the unions what they want because there just plain isn't any more money left in the kitty to pay their bloated salaries and pensions.
The reason he's trying to deep-six their so-called collective bargaining rights is that I think he sees what's coming down the pike, and the time is going to come when the only thing left to do is start massive public sector layoffs and serious cutbacks in things like medical care and pensions.
And when that happens, the state has to be able to go ahead and do it without the unions throwing a hissy fit.
I think he's just decided to go ahead and let them get their tantrums over with.
Before getting down to the serious business of trying to pull his state out of a $4 billion hole.
Now, to be sure, I know that teachers are valuable members of society and they perform a vital function.
And in view of the kind of pupils America sends them, they go through a lot to earn their daily crust, so to speak.
My heart goes out to anyone who has to spend six hours a day in a classroom full of niggers.
But an NEA unionized teacher in Wisconsin's public school system, and I'm not sure, but I think Wisconsin is a closed shop, and that's all they can hire as teachers or NEA members.
Anyway, a new teacher in Wisconsin starts at $89,000 per year, and frankly, I think that's enough to where they can afford to go from a 3% copay on their health plans to a 5% copay.
Of course, it's true that a significant chunk out of that $89,000 per year is deducted from their paychecks in the form of union dues, and thence ends up in the campaign chests of the Democratic Party.
So the teachers never see it, but still.
And as nice as it might be to retire at the age of 50 on a 60% pension, young enough to start a whole new career, Do we really need people doing this now when the cupboard is finally bare after 80 years of New Deal and so forth and so on?
Like I said, I honestly don't understand how California and Illinois and some of these other big blue states do it.
Well, actually, I do know how they're doing it.
They're continuing to borrow hand over fist.
California is now borrowing $40 million per day.
In order to maintain welfare payments, God knows who the state's finding who's willing to lend the money.
Apparently, even the Communist Chinese won't lend Americans any more money.
Maybe it's Don Vito down at the pizza parlor.
And if the state doesn't pay up, the loan sharks will send Tony Soprano and Pauly Walnuts to break Governor Moonbeam's legs.
I didn't know this until recently, but back when Clinton allegedly quote-unquote reformed welfare and substituted workfare and so forth, so on back in the 1990s, The state of California was allowed to opt out of the legal requirement that actual welfare payments be cut off after a certain time.
So in California, once Mamacita Rosa and her 13 little bambinos from Sonora get onto the welfare rolls, they're there to stay.
California has also managed to drive their productive tax base, i.e.
white people, right out of the state through insane regulation and taxation.
I understand from some of our people who live there and who have tried it that starting a business is almost impossible in California.
It's almost like they've decided to make it impossible for anyone except huge multinational corporations to operate in the state.
And that may well be the case, considering the kind of so-called political leadership they've got in Sacramento, mostly hippy-dippy 60s retreads like Jerry Brown himself.
Now this is going to happen all across America, people.
Mostly in blue states and cities that have been run by Democrats for several generations, and who have bought the votes of public sector unions and minorities with taxpayer money and, in essence, financed the Democratic Party for generations, and they're finally going bust now.
Because there just plain is no more money.
The incoming tax revenues for years in advance are already in hock.
They're pledged to the banks and Wall Street and the Chinese and whoever else has lent the state or city money.
The alternative is, of course, for the federal government to bail them out, but the Feds are almost as close to bankruptcy as they are, and the Federal Reserve has already started to print money and caused a corresponding increase in inflation.
I anticipate that this printing of money under the term quantitative easing will continue, and eventually the states and cities will be bailed out and they'll have enough money to meet their pensions and their payrolls all right, but the money won't be worth anything.
Those Wisconsin teachers may still start at $89,000 a year, but that $89,000 won't buy them anything.
And all those teachers who were dumb enough to buy their homes on adjustable-rate mortgages will suddenly get slaughtered, and there will be more foreclosures, so forth and so on, until a Wisconsin teacher will be drawing $89,000 a year and living under a bridge.
Now really, people, this is going to be fascinating to watch.
I pity our movement dicked around for 50 years, wasting time and resources on complete dead ends like the Populist Party and the Duck Club and other useless projects, and now when the balloon might really be about to go up, we won't be on it.
Next email is from Matt in North Carolina.
Dear HAC, I thought this might be interesting to talk about on the next Radio Free Northwest.
I'm a big history buff myself, and I was wondering what your thoughts were on the foreign volunteers in the Third Reich.
The volunteers in the Wehrmacht are most certainly interesting, but I find the SS volunteers even more fascinating.
Take the French SS unit Charlemagne, for example.
They were some of the last defenders of Berlin.
The ones present during the battle had all voluntarily stayed.
P.S. I bet those Frenchmen are in a constant spin in their graves right now, considering the condition of France.
It might also be interesting to hear you comment on the Slavic volunteers.
Division Galicia, for example.
Yes, Matt, that's one of the most fascinating and yet little-known stories of the Second World War.
I don't have all the figures right at my fingertips, but I know that there were hundreds of thousands of non-German volunteers during the war of every white nationality under the sun, including a few Americans and Britons who fought with the St. George Brigade and some Irishmen who were attached to the Spanish Blue Division.
Interestingly, one of the Blue Division's commanders on the Eastern Front was General Jose Moscardo, the Nationalist commander at the Siege of the Alcazar in Toledo in 1936.
I notice that this period of his career is pointedly absent from his Wikipedia article.
Fortunately, other sources aren't so politically correct.
Most of the foreign volunteers of the SS were, of course, Russians and Ukrainians, who at long last had a chance to strike back at Stalin and his Jewish commissars.
There were also a lot of Lithuanian, Latvian, and Estonian SS men who volunteered from the Baltic states in view of the fact that Stalin had moved in and crushed their country's independence.
Among the most famous of these units were the Vlasov Cossacks.
A lot of people have wondered why the Ukrainian John Demyanyuk has never been able to put up a convincing defense against his accusers who claim that he was Ivan the Terrible at Treblinka or wherever.
The evidence against him is extremely weak, but part of the problem, other than the insane vindictiveness of the Jews, of course, has always been that Demyanyuk has never quite been able to give much of a coherent account of his whereabouts during the war, except to say that he was working as a farm laborer.
I have always speculated myself that it could be that John does indeed have a Nazi past he needs to hide.
Not that he was a non-existent concentration camp guard, but that he was really a Vlasov Cossack, and he doesn't dare let that come out because they'll nail him just as quickly for that as they will be for being Ivan the Terrible.
Okay, third music break.
Now, by way of apology to our female comrades for my playing the male chauvinist piggery song by the Tannehill Weavers last week, I got a little something for the ladies tonight.
Now, as most of you know, I'm a genuine historian, and the one thing that pisses me off is the politically correct rewriting of history.
I never bothered to watch an episode of Xena the Warrior Princess.
And anytime I'm watching a movie and I see the first bimbo with a sword in her hand and wearing an armored bikini, I turn it off.
Things like that basically didn't happen in the past.
For one thing, those crude steel broadswords of the day were so heavy and expensive that most men couldn't afford them, and if you could, you had to be a big muscular bruiser to tote one and use it in combat for any length of time.
A typical medieval knight of the 14th century was packing about a hundred extra pounds in armor and weaponry.
And since people were a lot smaller in those days, and most men were only a few inches over five feet, and most women were under four, there just weren't any Xenas.
However, in point of fact, there were some genuine warrior princesses in our past, although not the Xena type, no swords and no armored bikinis.
Mostly, they were ladies who were very judicious in their choice of what was usually a long string of husbands and lovers.
And who were able to seize and retain political power.
One such was Caterina Sforza of Forley in Renaissance Italy, whom I mentioned in my Aryan history series.
And another was a 16th century woman named Grace O'Malley, or Granuala, as she is known in Irish.
She's gone down in history as the Pirate Queen of Ireland.
Now, I won't go into all of her various exploits.
Of course, they've gained a lot in the telling down through the centuries.
She hung out on the west coast of Ireland, in a castle on the coast of County Mayo, and she sent her ships here, there, and everywhere, and raised General Hill for quite a long time.
She lived to be well into her seventies, and at one point she was captured by the English and imprisoned in Dublin Castle, but she managed to just talk her way out of it.
And, of course, she went back to Connemara, where she promptly went back to her old pirating ways.
This is from the album Granuola by Sean Davy, and it's sung by Rita Connolly.
*music* *music* *music* *music*
*music* *music* *music* *music* *music*
*music* *music* *music* *music* *music* *music* *music* *music* *music* *music*
*music* *music* *music* *music* *music* *music* I
cried, enjoy, and he shall have my love more than any other.
There came to me a Lord, deputy to the Queen, loomed and feathered and buckled and golden, with a thousand toys, a thousand more behind them.
There came to me no luck, the day the dice were thrown, down upon the depths of London, now I am here alone in Dublin Castle.
There came to me a judge with whom I did converse, galloping horses, cops, the promise of good behaviour, the promise of good behaviour.
There came to me a judge with whom I did with the Queen, and I was a judge with whom I did with the Queen.
There came to me a judge with whom I did with the Queen.
I get a lot of heckling from lefties and Jews and general weirdos, especially since we got that publicity a couple of months ago courtesy of Rachel Maddow, or Maydow, or whatever the hell she pronounces it.
Mostly, these heckles come as comments on the blogs, which I simply trash, but every now and then I get direct emails of this nature as well, which I simply ignore.
I almost never answer them, because what's the point?
I mean, it's not like I'm going to somehow persuade a nigger to no longer be black.
Or a Jew to no longer be Jewish.
And while I suppose it's possible I might somehow be able to get through to some white asshole if I spent hours and hours arguing back and forth with him, I just don't bother anymore.
I've learned down through the years that it's almost impossible to convince a white man that we're right by simple reason and argument.
The truth of the racial situation is something that someone has to learn for themselves, more often than not through some bad personal experience.
But a while back, I got this one sneering email from a Jew, and it was fairly interesting.
Jews are at least intelligent, most of them, and without getting into what this Hebe actually said, he had the whole situation down pretty correctly.
He admitted that the United States was weak now, and getting weaker, and that in theory, yes, it would be possible for us to succeed in breaking our own nation away from the central regime.
But then he went on to describe our own many character flaws as a race, pretty accurately, I had to admit.
And he concluded with a pointed little dig at me.
What he said was, If you were thirty years younger, Harold, you might pull it off, but fortunately for us, you're the last of your kind.
In his case, I couldn't resist emailing him back one short, sharp reply.
I told him, No, I'm the first.
Well, I sure hope I was right on that, because guys, we really are going to have to change what we are before we're going to have any chance at beating these bastards and establishing our own country.
I keep ragging on you to pack the moving van and come here, not just because we need you here, but because packing that moving van is the first indication that you're the kind of person we need here in the future homeland.
There's no point in bringing a lot of mere pale-faced consumer animals here to the Northwest.
We've got plenty of those here already.
I've been challenged in the past not to be so negative about our bad character traits and not talk so much about what we're not looking for and describe the kind of man or woman that we are looking for, and that's a lot harder.
I know exactly what I want to say, but I'm kind of hampered by the fact that it doesn't sound very nice.
And no matter how carefully I pick and choose my words, it still isn't going to sound very nice because it isn't.
What we have to get up here to make up our first thousand comments.
Comrades, many of whom will go on to become the first Northwest Volunteers, are true revolutionaries.
And true revolutionaries aren't very nice people.
They may look heroic and valiant in the context of history, but in real life a completely dedicated insurrectionary and political soldier is kind of a drag to be around, at least by middle-class American standards of the kind most of us were raised with.
One of the better descriptions of this kind of personality is found in the Revolutionary Catechism by a 19th century Russian named Sergei Necheyev.
I've reprinted and posted this document on prior occasions in Northwest Observer and elsewhere, and I won't read it out here because it's long, and also because a lot of us are still confused by references to the Russian Revolution, which was one of the most successful in history.
One that created a world superpower and one which only failed in the long run because its underlying principle, Marxism, in the final analysis, simply doesn't work.
I've often wondered what the Third Reich would be like today if it had been allowed to survive, being based as it was on National Socialism, a worldview which demonstrated, in the six years of peace it had, that yes, it really does work.
Necheyev was the first to formulate an analysis and a description of a kind of human personality that changes history.
A kind of man that developed in the 19th century and who flourished for a little less than a century before seemingly disappearing forever.
The absolutely dedicated revolutionary whose sole object in life is the overthrow of a whole existing social order and its replacement by another.
That was something that had never been seen before.
Old empires and orders, prior to that, usually collapsed under the weight of their own crapulence and were replaced by healthier and newer forms, kind of like new saplings pushing up from the ground and eventually overturning the old dead tree.
Necheyev was the first to grasp the idea that things could be speeded up by chopping down the old tree first.
Pardon my lapse into television terminology, but what can I tell you?
I'm an American raised on the tube.
What we have to create through the Northwest Front is an army of racist Mr. Spocks.
People who understand and accept the rationale of white separatism as the only way to avoid extinction and who build their entire lives on that premise.
People who live for nothing else but the revolution and the establishment of the Northwest American Republic.
This task can't be accomplished with Beavis and Butthead.
It can't be accomplished by Joe Sixpack or Joe the Plumber.
It has to be done by the creation of a genuine revolutionary vanguard of people manned by a genuine racial elite of leadership, and that's going to require a combination of intelligence, character, education, integrity, and will, which will be very hard to meld together.
Now, it's there.
I see signs all around that we do have this human material available, although not much of it.
And we're going to have to light the fire in each individual person first before they come here in order to get them motivated and get them to actually make the move.
That's hard, as I'm finding out.
But it has to be done.
I need all of you to not just listen to these Radio Free Northwest podcasts and read my novels as a form of entertainment.
I need you to listen and read and think about all this with a view toward transforming your own character and devoting the remainder of your lives to this cause.
Never think that I don't understand how hard it is.
Never think that I don't understand what I'm asking you to give up and how agonizing it's going to be.
You're going to have to accept the loss of your own lives in the metaphysical sense, because you have to come to understand that your life this time around is not yours to live for yourselves alone.
I think that, like an ordinary week, the cycle of human incarnation is divided into work days, quitting time, and weekends, in a sense.
Now, the life that you're living now isn't vacation, or weekend, or Miller time.
It's a work day.
This time around, your excursion into this world is a business trip, not a trip to Disney World.
I'm not making any sense at all here.
You have to come to grips with the fact that you were put here for a purpose.
And this time around, that purpose is not your own.
You are here as a housekeeper, a janitor of history mopping up the Jews' mess, a road crew filling in the potholes that the niggers have made in the highway of the cosmos.
There will come more lives in the future.
Better lives that you will be free to live for your own pleasure and growth and betterment.
This is not one of them.
This life we're all in now is a work day, guys.
And we all need to come to the Northwest, clock in, and get to work.
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 on the bond.
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