Aug. 25, 2011 - 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 more for signal, token, whistle up and arching 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.
Switch 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 rubbing for the blessed warming light.
Passed along the valleys like the man she's lonely crew.
And a thousand plays were flashing at the rise.
It's August the 25th, 2011.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
Radio Free Northwest.
Okay, a few words to open with.
Now, a lot of this podcast is going to be memorials of various kinds for people from our past whom we've lost in various ways, especially, of course, Commander Rockwell.
Who was murdered on this very day, 44 years ago, August 25th, 1967.
Now, for some reason, August seems to be a really bad month for anniversaries for us.
I should also mention that this podcast is going to get me into a lot of trouble with our own people.
Now, let me explain why.
In the past, I've played a lot of audio clips from various people throughout the movement's history, past and present.
I do this largely because of the appalling ignorance of our past, which I so often observe on the part of other white nationalists, especially young people, who have no idea who we are or where we came from.
Now, as I've mentioned before, I've met so-called national socialists who didn't even know who George Lincoln Rockwell is.
In fact, one such incident was what started me off on this movement historical recording kick.
Now, just because I play an old speech from someone from our past does not mean that I necessarily agree with or even like that person.
It means that I believe this is someone whom you need to know about and who deserves an opportunity to speak for himself and let you hear what he was about in his own words.
Unfortunately, this is what's going to get me in trouble in this podcast, because there are some people in our movement's past that not only do the FBI and the government not want you to hear, but people in our own ranks don't want you to hear or know about either.
One of the hardest things for anyone to understand and accept when they enter into a life of white nationalism is that right now, at least, probably the bulk of our problems that we have to deal with come from people who claim to believe as we do.
In the past, I've gotten into that a little bit, although I can't go into it too deeply right now because more often than not, the individual cases can't be discussed because they cut too close to the bone and hit too close to home, and it gets people upset whom I don't really want or need to get upset.
Suffice it to say that in the past and in the present, the white nationalist movement has had certain prominent personalities.
I won't use the term leaders, because since Commander Rockwell and Bob Matthews died, we haven't had any actual leaders.
Anyway, we've had certain prominent personalities among us who are capable of inspiring an almost hysterical hatred and antagonism, which sometimes, in my opinion, approaches the point of actual insanity.
Now I know because I'm one of those personalities.
I don't understand what it is exactly that causes certain people among us to inspire this kind of deranged hatred.
I suspect it's probably something related to the egos of the people who are affected by it.
The prominent figure in question most likely hurt their feelings in some way by disagreeing with them or criticizing them in public, and it's unfortunately the case in the white nationalist movement that we have skins as thin as tissue paper, and all too often the slightest disagreement or criticism is taken as a mortal insult and an excuse for a lifelong blood feud.
But for some reason I've never understood there are those among us who fall to the ground, frothing and foaming at the mouth, when certain names are so much as even mentioned.
Anyone who's been involved with the movement for any length of time at all will be familiar with this phenomenon, and I'm now going to ask for trouble by playing audio clips for you from two of these movement figures who, for whatever reason, send some among us into a kind of St. Vitus' dance of hysterical fear and loathing.
Yeah, this week I'm going to drop myself right in it by playing clips from two such individuals.
The first clip I'm going to play for you is a speech by Bill White.
The speech was made in Chicago in 2008, a few weeks before White was arrested and tortured in hell for 30 months by the FBI, until even the federal courts of the United States had to admit that White had broken no laws and done nothing wrong.
He was released from prison in April of this year, and Bill is now back in Roanoke, Virginia.
He's been reunited with his wife and child, and he's trying to pick up the pieces of his business career.
He hasn't yet said whether or not he intends to return to any kind of activism.
I won't rehash White's case, but for those of you who wonder why I am playing a clip from the hated Bill White, it's simple, because the FBI and the Obama regime don't want me to.
They moved heaven and earth to try and keep this man in prison for the rest of his life for the alleged crime of posting things to the internet that the government didn't like.
It was the intention of the FBI and the Obama regime that this man be buried alive and that we should never hear Bill White's voice again.
They failed.
And we will hear him now.
*Squad*
Greetings, comrades.
I'd like to thank Phil Anderson for stepping in at the last minute to do the introductions.
Art Jones for having put this meeting together today.
Tony Zirkle for coming all the way from Indiana and his congressional campaign to address us.
Harry Juncker for flying in from Washington, D.C. on a marathon of speeches to address us.
And everyone who came out today.
It is my honor to speak to you at this 119th birthday party for our leader, our Fuhrer, Adolf Hitler.
I sat in a courtroom two weeks ago with a Department of Justice related official who was demanding I be censured for contempt.
He took a stand crying and trembling.
He said, "I mentioned his name on my website." And so he had to hire two bodyguards, rewire his house with an alarm system, and send his wife to another city.
He also wanted me to pay for it.
Unfortunately, I haven't had to yet.
As our attorney noted, we stir up the heights.
We get these people caught up.
They're so afraid.
They know that what they're doing is evil.
And when we confront them, they get so afraid they're going to be held accountable for their evil, they just put out a dimension that we may come after them.
No other white organization has had Jesse Jackson go to the president to demand that it be banned, or that Al Sharpton demand congressional hearings into its activities.
But in our fight, we must not forget.
We must not lose sight of our objectives.
Our objective is not the subjugation of the Negro.
Our objective, primarily, is not the extermination of the Jew.
We fight and our objective is to fight for the future of the white working class.
We fight these Negro and these Jew agitators because they threaten that white working class.
In our struggle for the white working class, we must focus on the real economic, cultural, social conditions that white workers are facing today.
We are in a time of economic collapse, what you might call a crisis of capitalism.
This is not the future.
This is not a prediction.
This is not a "I don't have to pay taxes" militia theory.
We are in a situation where we are seeing deflation.
And inflation affecting our economy at the same time.
There's a deflation in the credit market.
Those assets that have to be bought on credit are collapsing because credit has been restricted.
But there is massive inflation in the cash market.
Those consumer goods that are paid for out of the wages of working people are going up in value.
This is the situation we saw just prior to the Great Depression of the late 20s and 1930s.
And it means three things.
It means that we are going to see massive losses of jobs as businesses, particularly small businesses, which employ over half of our workforce, are unable to get the credit and the capital they need to produce jobs for workers.
We are going to see a middle class impoverished.
Much of the middle class in this country is dependent upon their home and their car and their major assets for their value.
Well, they can no longer borrow money against it.
Those assets are deflating, and the real living conditions of the middle class will deteriorate accordingly.
Third, for working people, we already have the situation where people can't purchase gas.
I mean, or can't purchase gas for long trips.
They can't afford it.
I would shop.
Coming here to Chicago, you see it pushing into the upper $3.
It's still under $3, down in Ronald, Virginia.
But this is combined with a rise in food prices.
We've already seen internationally 33 countries destabilized by food riots just in the past few weeks.
These are countries poorer than our poorest.
But these food prices are continuing to rise, and the bottom of our society is going to run out of or be very limited in their ability to acquire.
Basic staples, gasoline, food, clothing, housing.
This is what happened in the Depression.
It happened in Germany, not just in the United States.
They actually destabilized the German economy after the war.
Came up with something called the Reckon Marks that they based on a system of mortgaging all the real assets in the country.
Germany had been de-industrialized.
Batteries had been packed up and shipped overseas.
The industrial heartland had been turned over to the French.
And so the only thing they had left was to mortgage their real estate, and they built a currency based on that mortgage of the real estate, and that system failed just prior to our extension to power.
Similarly, in the United States, we have built an economic system based on mortgages, and we've de-industrialized and shifted our factories voluntarily overseas.
We didn't have to be defeated in a war.
We just packed them up and set them off.
And we put in a system of credit and an economy and a currency based upon the mortgaging of our real assets.
We are seeing today a very similar failure of that system.
I hope we see after it our, again, our ascension to power.
Thank you.
And ask how we got here: liberals, conservatives, Republicans, Democrats, who's more responsible?
There's no more responsible.
They're all responsible, right?
They're all responsible because they all share one thing in common.
Internationalism.
And that internationalism is nothing but a code word for the Jews.
We look at the modern crisis in credit, the modern deterioration of the currency.
We see it starting in the Nixon administration when the U.S. is taking internationally off the gold standard.
And we see the conservative hero, Ronald Reagan, step by step, opening up the borders to this internationalist doctrine, raising interest rates, allowing them to float, opening the borders to immigrants, granting amnesty to immigrants, opening the borders to China, India, Pakistan, Taiwan, Japan, Bangladesh, granting most favored nation status.
We saw the bankruptcy of farmers, The forcing of agriculture into these large conglomerates in the late 80s.
And we see them paving the way for Bill Clinton, who brought us an act of, brought us the Central American Amnesty, continued the globalist, internationalist, free trade, open borders policies, and then got a crackdown on militias and constitutionalism that made some confused white workers think electing a Republican, George Bush, would be the answer.
The results?
Real wages for American workers peaked in 1974.
Manufacturing jobs are gone.
And they've been replaced.
These $24 an hour or $30 an hour factory jobs are now $6 an hour or $8 an hour service jobs.
They took working people from production to servitude.
Unconsciously, where I come from, the mayor has put forward a program.
The railroad left, factories left.
So he's going to take the working people who used to work for the railroad and the factories and make them all hairdressers and taxi drivers for the rich Jew tourists he's going to bring down from New York and New Jersey.
By the by, if anyone can send me some audio clips from Edgar Steele that are between 5 and 10 minutes in length, some of the highlights from his nickel rants, or any other speech Ed made, then lay them on me, and I'll replay them on Radio Free Northwest for the same reason, to make sure that the regime does not succeed in silencing Steele.
I simply don't have the time to go over all of his speeches and podcasts, but if some of you do, again, please select a few highlights, at least 5 minutes, and no more than 10 minutes in length.
Send them to me as MP3 files, and I'll put them on here to break one off up the FBI's ass.
As I said earlier, this month of August, we've got all kinds of anniversaries, mostly deaths, I'm sorry to say, and one of those is the death of Dr. Revelo Pendleton Oliver, who was for many years a professor of classics at the University of Illinois, and who was a very prolific writer and speaker for white nationalist causes, beginning in the 1960s.
He died on August the 20th, 1994.
I suspect that many of you listening to this will be familiar with Dr. Oliver's work, and if not, you can find his material all over the internet.
At least in his case, we know what caused people to go berserk with foaming-at-the-mouth hatred of Revel O.P. Oliver.
He was very anti-Christian in his outlook, more so in his later years, when he wrote almost nothing except anti-Christian diatribes.
He was one of those guys who towards the end of his life kind of forgot about the whole race thing due to his hatred of Christianity.
We get that a lot, I'm sorry to say.
I agree with some of the things Dr. Oliver wrote and disagree with other things.
But in his case, he wrote with such wit and such elegant style and such scholarly invective, kind of like a modern H.L. Mencken or Ambrose Bierce, that it drove the Christian fanatics among us cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.
And they still hate him to the point of gibbering, cackling madness.
I will probably get a few people who send me hate emails because I played that Bill White clip.
But I'll almost guarantee you that a few people will actually leave the list and stop listening to this program over this Revolo P. Oliver clip.
Now one thing, this was recorded in 1967, and it's a very bad recording like so many of these clips that we have today of speeches and our kinds of meetings from the past, out there in the rented motel banquet room circuit.
They were usually recorded by these old battery-operated cassette recorders that either had a small mic or a little plastic bipod that people would stick up on the podium and sometimes get knocked off, or else there was a condenser mic in the machine itself.
And so sometimes the recording quality for these older pieces simply isn't what it should be.
This recording especially is probably the worst one I've ever tried to clean up and make coherent.
Hopefully our sound guy can do a little bit better, but what I got right now, Dr. Oliver sounds like he's speaking underwater or inside an aquarium or something.
It's pretty bad.
Just bear in mind that these words were spoken 44 years ago, longer than some of us have been alive.
It's odd how contemporary they sound.
It gives you some idea how long we've been at this and how long we've been failing.
Ladies and gentlemen, a acquaintance of mine, Took a trip to the west.
He was from Cleveland.
Took his trip not long after the second of the big riot there.
So as he went west along Route 66, he got to Albuquerque.
And he asked the innkeeper where he stayed, do you have any racial difficulties here?
The innkeeper said, well, you know, it's a funny thing.
We used to have quite a number of colored people here.
They were all on payments from the federal government, of course.
About a year ago, they got into their Cadillacs and their Lincolns, and they drove off.
We haven't seen any since.
So the man was actually interested, and he drove on down the highway.
His next stop, of course, was Santa Fe.
He looked around there and asked the same question.
They got the same reply.
About a year before, they'd gotten into their Lincolns and their Cadillacs, and they drove off west.
And they said something about Route 184, but nobody knew where Route 184 was.
So the man drove on west, and he got to Flagstaff.
Flagstaff, he was told, yes, about a year ago.
Great caravans of Lincolns and Cadillacs came through town.
They were looking for Route 184.
I haven't seen them since.
So he drove on.
Pretty soon he came to a little sign which said Route 184.
He looked at it.
It was just a very short road, about half a mile long, paved, ran from the highway, straight north, right to the brink of the Grand Canyon.
They noticed there was a big sign over it: "Reserved for white people only." We are the most patient, the most long-suffering, the most generous of peoples.
We certainly did not start the race war, but now that it has been started for us, It may be that we can finish it.
The instinct to racial loyalty lies deep in men, and though it may be crushed over the sophisticated palaver, although it may seem to have disappeared under the powder of words sprinkled over it,
it remains dormant in the flesh, dormant in the soul, and it will awaken when that We're
good to go.
To make way for a Negro.
And no executive wishes to be relegated to a menial position to make way for a Jew, as the Jews in their folly are now openly demanding.
An edict from the despotism in Washington abolishing seniority and merit in all private employment to make way for our sacrosanct minority races.
may well be the last insult and outrage that we, the world's only creative minority, will stand.
Thank you.
May be that Edouard Drummond was right in 1890 when he predicted that there would come at last a point, a point beyond which we, our race, cannot be insulted and cussed and spat upon with impunity.
We are strange people, we men of the West.
We like to hesitate, examine our own, and I am not discussing those things now.
I am only telling you...
So far as I can discover, this is your last weapon, and that it may possibly, just possibly, be one that will avert an otherwise certain and unspeakably terrible defeat.
It is, of course, not a thing that is to be put into use immediately and flamboyantly by rushing out into the streets in 15 minutes when shouting.
This is a suggestion of strategy.
Something to be planned for, something towards which efforts should converge.
I do not urge or recommend.
The choice is one of such gravity and fought with such risks that each man must choose for himself.
He must consider and weigh very carefully the alternatives before him.
And then he must make his decision for himself, make it alone and undisturbed, in earnest meditation, in the sacred and silent chapel of his own soul.
Thank you.
Okay, first music break.
This is a British skinhead or white noise rock group, and I'm sorry to say that I have no idea who they are because either the person who sent me the cut didn't say, or because I'm becoming senile and I didn't notice it.
It could be either one.
I think this is either final war or no remorse, but I'm not sure.
Anyway, they're pretty good.
This one's called Stop Immigration.
The British people are no longer prepared to be treated as second-class citizens in their own country.
The British people have had enough.
We are going to take our country back.
Hi guys, this is Axis Sally.
As Harold already said earlier in the podcast, August is kind of a sad month for white nationalists.
For some reason, we've lost a lot of our heroes and martyrs in the month of August.
In addition to the death of the great white nationalist writer and philosopher Revelo P. Oliver, whom Harold has already mentioned, this August the 16th marks the first anniversary of the death of comrade Bruce Carroll Pierce of the Order.
who died in the Allenwood Federal Concentration Camp allegedly of a slip and fall in his cell.
God only knows what really happened.
It is known that Comrade Pierce's persistent refusal down through the years to abandon his white nationalist faith and his refusal to recant or bend the knee to Zogg in any way was becoming an embarrassment to the powers that be.
It may well be that Comrade Pierce was simply murdered in his cell just as there are grounds for suspicion that David Lane was secretly assassinated as well.
We simply have no way to know.
I know that with the exception of David Lane, Bruce Pierce was probably the most completely and openly unrepentant of all the Order men.
He did probably the most organizing and educating of his fellow inmates behind bars, and even in his prison letters, Bruce exuded a quiet strength and dedication that had the power to inspire simply by holding in one's hand a piece of paper on which he had written a few encouraging words.
There's not many people who still have that power these days.
The month of August is also the 19th anniversary of the Siege of Ruby Ridge in 1992, which began on August the 21st of that year when a team of United States Marshals crept up on Randy Weaver's cabin and with typical federal courage shot and killed Randy's young son Sam Weaver as well as the family dog.
One of Weaver's neighbors, a man named Kevin Harris, actually dared to shoot back at Sam Weaver's murderer and he killed the thug, thus beginning the historic siege.
You know, on television we always see the SWAT teams from the FBI and U.S. Marshals and ATF and Homeland Security kicking in doors and charging into places in their black body armor, yelling and screaming and waving their weapons around and acting all badass.
It helps to remember sometimes that real life isn't like that.
In real life, federal law enforcement are cowardly rats with yellow stripes running down their backs.
When they met with armed resistance, the mighty U.S. Marshals, famed in song and story, turned and ran away.
They came back with an army including armored cars, gas, and helicopters, all to snuff out one family, and they almost succeeded.
The infamous FBI sniper Lon Horiuchi gunned down Vicki Weaver as she stood in the cabin door holding her 10-month-old daughter, and he also shot and wounded both Randy Weaver and Kevin Harris, so it isn't like the people in the cabin were in any position to defend themselves.
And yet the feds were still terrified to move in, and they sent in Bo Grites and Jack McLean to make sure they wouldn't have to face any armed resistance.
The Ruby Ridge incident also proves something that we need to bear in mind.
It goes to show that there is no opting out of the system.
We get a lot of people who think they're going to come here to the Northwest and go off and hide from Obama in some little cabin way, way out in the Northwoods.
Ask Randy Weaver how that worked out for him.
The Beast won't let you do it.
The Beast lets nobody go.
Nobody gets to disconnect themselves from the boob tube and the madness.
When it's time for the three-minute hate, everybody jumps and everybody shouts like Uncle Sammy tells them to.
No exceptions.
The federal government of the United States stalked Randy and Vicki Weaver for almost five years before the actual attack and the murders.
They paid a federal informant for almost two years before he could finally claim to have enticed Randy Weaver into breaking the law by buying a shotgun a quarter inch too short.
They even went so far as to plant fiber-optic remote control cameras in the trees around the Weaver cabin, and all because Randy Weaver refused to become an informer against the Aryan nations.
The Ruby Ridge incident shows that we simply don't have the option of unilaterally withdrawing from this horror show that is Obama's America.
The only hope for white people is a sovereign nation of our own, here in the Pacific Northwest.
And all of us must be prepared for a long struggle by political and eventually by other means to achieve that homeland for our folk.
Someday, when the Northwest Republic comes into being, there will be a national monument at Ruby Ridge where Sam and Vicki Weaver died.
It can be truly said that it was there our country was born.
Back in August 92, up there in the hills, in the beauty of North Idaho, where there's only bears and still.
There came six U.S. Marshals, hiding behind logs, and they caught poor Randy Weaver.
First they killed his dog.
Randy and his family.
Just another day Outside in the morning air Nothing in their way Came six U.S. Marshals With a job that must get done And they caught poor Randy Weaver Next they killed his son The dogs barked at the
marshals Hidin' in the woods Trespassin' on private land Under orders that they should You just don't shoot a man's dog Sure don't shoot his son But these here U.S. Marshals did Gut Weaver on the run Hold
up in their cabin, a tiny frightened band, while federal reinforcements can fly in o 'er the land.
Soon there were four hundred feds all around their hill, cause the weavers were so dangerous.
The orators were to kill Out to see the body of his boy shot in the back.
A hidden federal sniper shot Randy near the shack.
He struggled to the cabin, bleeding from his side.
And if he'd known what was coming, he might have stayed outside.
Music Vicki Weaver stood there, baby in her arms Never knew that living free could lead to all this harm Standing there behind her door,
filled with fear and dread This same cowardly sniper Shot her through the head And what's dead in the forest?
Moving through the trees.
Hiding in the shadows.
There's danger in the breeze.
Something's very wrong, I fear.
Not sure what it is.
What's those horrid sounds I hear Up on Ruby Ridge Up on Ruby Ridge Finally, there is another famous death that occurred in August, the murder of Commander Rockwell in Arlington, Virginia, on August 25, 1967, 44 years ago today.
George Lincoln Rockwell was born in Bloomington, Illinois, in the home of his maternal grandfather on March 9, 1918.
His father was a very successful headline comedian from 1912 until about 1935.
His ancestors were German, French, English, and Scotch, numbering among the many Revolutionary War figures and going back to Marie Antoinette, the French Queen.
Rockwell stayed in Bloomington, Illinois, only until he was old enough to get out of the hospital, when he was taken on the vaudeville circuit by his parents.
He then spent some time in New Jersey, New York, and California, but most of his youth was spent in Booth Bay Harbor, Maine.
He attended Hebron Academy, a prep school near Lewiston, Maine, after which he entered Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island, majoring in philosophy.
In college, Rockwell enjoyed and did well in the sciences and other objective courses, but fought blindly and instinctively against the sociology and other similar departments which, unknown to him, were then preaching the Marxist environmentalism and equalism which has played such havoc with our human biological sciences.
Leaving Brown in the middle of his junior year in 1940, when it became obvious that the U.S. would get into World War II, Rockwell enlisted as a seaman in the United States Navy in Boston, Massachusetts.
By the outbreak of World War II on December 7, 1941, he had entered naval aviation and became a scout pilot and a fighter pilot.
He served aboard the USS Omaha in the South Atlantic and off North Africa during the invasion.
He was then sent to the Naval Photographic School for pilots and assigned to the USS Wasp and from there went to the Pacific Theater.
He became a commander of forward air control operations for Marine Corps assault troops.
He was at Guadalcanal, Guam, and other Pacific hotspots.
At the end of World War II, he was commanding officer of a squadron in Hawaii, earning nine decorations.
Released from active duty, Rockwell attended Pratt Institute Art School in New York, working part-time in advertising and commercial art.
In 1948, while still at Pratt, he won first prize of $1,000 in the National Society of Illustrators competition for a full-page newspaper ad for the American Cancer Society.
Although still in the ready reserves as commanding officer of a squadron in Washington, D.C., he launched a new magazine, U.S. Lady, for all the wives of U.S. servicemen.
In 1949, Rockwell founded the first big national advertising agency in the state of Maine.
Recalled for the Korean War in 1950, he trained Marine and Navy pilots in close support of troops and then was transferred to Iceland, where he became commanding officer of a squadron at Keflavik.
At about this time, he became deeply concerned about the way all he had fought for in two wars was being turned over to communism.
He noticed that almost all of the convicted communist spies and traitors, such as Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, Nathan Silvermaster, Harry Dexter White, or Weiss, Robert Soblin, Morton Sobel, David Greenglass, Judith Coplan, Harry Gold, Miriam Moskowitz, Fred Rosenberg, and Sam Cohen, and most of the communist intellectual leaders, such as Herbert and Bettina Aptheker, were racial Jews.
He was especially shocked to find that Who's Who in World Jewry, published by the Jews themselves, listed many of these atheist communists very proudly as Jews, even though Rockwell then believed Jews were just a religion.
Observing that Hitler had said that communism was Jewish, and that the Jews were out to degenerate and conquer the white race by subversion and race mixing, Rockwell bought a copy of Mein Kampf and read it, even though he had thought he already knew what was in it from all he'd heard.
He was astounded to find that it was actually a brilliant analysis of the mess Western civilization had gotten into and the only plan he'd ever seen for the white race to save itself.
For a number of years, he tried to work with various quote-unquote right-wing organizations, all of whom believed, as he did for a while, that it was necessary to disguise one's belief in Adolf Hitler and National Socialism.
Finally, disgusted with the emptiness, the weakness, the hypocrisy, and especially the cowardice of the so-called conservatives, Rockwell determined to attack at last, flying the swastika banner which had come so close to saving Western civilization and the white race.
Since our cause is fundamentally the truth, he explained to horrified friends, I do not see how we can win by lying or misrepresenting what we are for fear of the Jews.
The only time in the hundred years of the rise of communism that this plague has ever actually been beaten, it was beaten not by conservatives, but by radicals and fighters whom the enemy called Nazis and fascists, and whom they really did fear.
Only in Germany, Spain, and Italy has communism ever been conquered.
We are damned fools to be afraid to follow the only examples that ever worked.
He hung up a Nazi banner in front of his home and dared the Jews to do something about it.
They, and their friends and dupes, came in droves and mobs to do something about it, but Rockwell survived all the shooting, the rocks, and other Jewish arguments.
The publicity gave him a much-needed platform from which to call the attention of his fellow Americans to the increasingly desperate situation of America and our great white family of peoples.
Rockwell believed it was time for the white man to take America back from the aliens, the minorities, and the terrorists in power under the demagoguery of cheap politicians.
To accomplish this, Rockwell believed he had to win not the few in the right wing or the upper classes, but the millions and millions of our people.
And to win these people, he had to offer them something besides a lot of empty platitudes about freedom and the Constitution.
Only National Socialism offered a positive and progressive program for all Aryan people, rather than just the middle and upper classes, and combined a concern for the purity and protection of the white race with a fighting determination to stop all further mongrelization of our people.
Within five years, Rockwell had led the Nazi Party from a tiny and scorned band of roughnecks willing to take to the streets to fight treason and race-mixing to a party which had headquarters in Washington, Chicago, Los Angeles, and most major cities, and commanded the grudging respect of the enemy, even though there was powerful censorship of the American right to know what Rockwell was doing.
Under Commander Rockwell, the party published the Rockwell Report, the Stormtrooper, and the National Socialist World, along with bulletins for party members only.
Rockwell had plans to organize the White Guard, young white fighting men to help protect society from the Black and Red Revolution which had already conquered the police departments of Los Angeles, Chicago, Cleveland, and many other cities.
George Lincoln Rockwell is the father of the present-day racialist movement in the U.S. and the founder of American National Socialism.
For most of his turbulent career as commander of the ANP, Rockwell lived a shadowy existence on the fringes of the American political scene.
He was misunderstood and rejected by the vast majority of his fellow white Americans, whom he loved dearly.
He and his tiny band of roughnecks were alternatively cursed, ridiculed, and ignored by the mass media.
They fought street battles without end against communist and Jewish thugs who sought to silence them by force and spent many a night in jail courtesy of hostile politicians and police officers.
Throughout it all, Lincoln Rockwell's warrior spirit of courage, idealism, and heroic defiance was never crushed.
His years of persistence finally paid off in 1966 when thousands of white men, women, and youth in Chicago followed his leadership in a spontaneous uprising against efforts to forcibly integrate all white working-class neighborhoods.
The uprising culminated in the now-famous White People's March of September 10, 1966, in which hundreds of whites followed Commander Rockwell's leadership under the sign of the swastika.
Tragically, within a year, Lincoln Rockwell was dead.
On August 25, 1967, this authentic American hero was murdered in Arlington, Virginia, under circumstances which never have been satisfactorily cleared up, but which point very heavily towards the Jewish Anti-Defamation League.
The trigger man was later convicted and received a short prison term.
His accomplices in the corridors of power and the traitor within the headquarters who made the phone call telling the gunman where Rockwell would be were never charged or punished.
Yet although Lincoln Rockwell died on that dark Friday in August, his heroic spirit lives on in the hearts and minds of white men and women everywhere who continue to draw inspiration from his mighty example.
Heil Hitler.
The End
The End This is actually a little more grim and serious than usual, so listen up.
There are some of you out there who really do need to hear this.
Hmm, how do I ease into this subject?
Okay, tell you what, let's start with Harry Houdini.
That's a nickname for a white man of my acquaintance, and yes, I know the real Harry Houdini was a Jew.
But there's a reason for the nickname, and that's because about four years ago, when I was still down in Astorio, this Harry Houdini did a disappearing act.
Now, that happens a lot in the movement, and I'm not talking about transients of various kinds, people who come in like a lion and a few months later sneak out like a fart when they've just plain lost interest.
I'm not talking about people who are basically looking for a free lunch.
I'm not talking about the kind of people we call in the movement peripatetics or nomads who wander from place to place or group to group.
A lot of skinheads are like that.
I'm not talking about people of a certain type that the Germans call Schwarmgeists.
I'm not talking about people whom Whitaker Chambers referred to as looking for an intellectual night's lodging.
I'm not talking about any of them.
I'm referring to serious, committed, long-term adult white nationalists who know the score racially and Jew-wise, who do serious political and racial work with one or with several groups for some years, and then who all of a sudden simply vanish.
Like I said, we get that a lot in the movement.
We get it too often.
There are a number of reasons for people to disappear on us.
Sometimes there's genuine family and personal circumstances that dictate such a step.
Although my personal observation is that in a lot of cases there is, I think, a strong suspicion, at least, that these circumstances are basically being used as a convenient excuse for the individual to do something that they've already made the decision to do, something that they know to be wrong, and for which they need a justification, a rationalization.
I mean, I've known activists who worked a regular job and ran a whole clan or NS unit while caring for old people and a paraplegic child in a wheelchair.
So it can be done.
Some of these Houdini types simply give in to pure despair.
It happens.
No one can work and struggle and devote their lives to a cause year in, year out, never seeing any visible results.
Everything around them always getting worse without suffering a lot of psychological damage.
They hit a breaking point and they simply flee into the night.
Anything just to get away from it all and to try and get the pain and the rage and the frustration out of their lives and find a little peace.
Guys, I get that.
I really do.
I've come close to that myself more times than I care to remember.
I've even tried it a couple of times, albeit briefly.
Please understand that I'm not scolding or ragging on anyone in that position.
Been there, done that.
Sometimes our people crack under the sheer isolation of it all.
To be a one-eyed man in the country of the blind is a terrible thing.
You ever see any of these ghost movies on TV or DVD where someone dies and they're stuck on the astral plane running around shouting in people's ears and jumping in front of them yelling and jumping up and down?
Trying to get someone on a crowded street or in a hospital or a park or whatever to see them, to hear them?
That's what it's like being the lone white nationalist in some American community.
You're like a ghost who is in the world but not of it.
Like you're a couple of phases out of sync and no one can see you or hear anything you're saying or even know that you're there.
You have this vitally important illumination.
You're desperately trying to warn others, and they walk by you like you're in the spirit world, and they can't hear you or be aware of your existence.
That can drive someone around the twist, and sometimes it does, and these people simply say, fuck it, they've had enough, they're tired of beating their heads against a brick wall, they give up and they disappear.
But probably the worst case scenario is when a true nationalist finally gives up on his own alleged comrades, usually after the so-called comrades have done something that is so terrible and so disgusting and so treacherous, so completely at odds with what they claim to believe in, that the individual's patient simply snaps and they flee into the night.
Anything in order to get these sick and twisted people and their lunatic scene out of their lives.
It's not just that you don't want to try and work with these people anymore, you don't want them anywhere near you anymore.
You want to forget that they ever existed.
I know that feeling.
Dear God do I know it.
Normal and stable people with normal desires and motivations and goals in life simply don't want even to be around such weird, dysfunctional drama and bullshit.
They don't want these people and their lunacy anywhere in their lives at all, and since simply shooting them in the head isn't a realistic option, they'll do anything just to get away.
I think the rationale runs something like, I'm going to say this again.
Probably the very worst part about being involved in white nationalism comes when you realize that, although there are occasional government-related episodes like Ruby Ridge and the Edgar Steel case, the overwhelming majority of our daily problems and issues come from people who claim to believe as we do.
I've discussed this before, and I won't go off into another long digression about movement character, because that's not what I want to talk about tonight.
I want to talk about people who vanish into thin air.
But if you've kept up with these podcasts, you'll know that I will at least admit that the problem exists, which no one else will.
Once again, I get it.
Do I ever get it?
I will just say one thing.
Now, if some of you have wondered in the past why I seem to be so obsessed with stuff like this, which is admittedly pretty childish and which at first glance seems unimportant and which we would all prefer not to have to deal with at all as if it didn't exist, well, one of the reasons is that time and time again, down through the past 40 years, I have been forced to carry the can for the revolting, stupid, and sometimes criminal behavior Of people who had nothing to do with me.
Not even necessarily with any group I was affiliated with.
But because they claimed to be part of the movement and claimed to be the same kind of person I am, I ended up getting tarred with their brush.
I cannot count the number of times over the past four decades that I have seen the bad drive out the good.
I cannot count the number of intelligent, dedicated, successful, and energetic people who could have been real assets to this cause, driven out in horror and loathing by the behavior of some of the people that they were expected to embrace as comrades.
And after all this time, it is really starting to piss me off.
There are a number of people, some of whose names would surprise you.
Former movement people, national socialists, ex-national alliance members, activists of many years'experience who have left it all behind, and they tell me, Harold, I will maintain I'll listen to your podcasts, but nothing else.
I will never again in my life have anything at all to do with these people.
I know who they refer to in a general way, and I suspect most of you do as well.
Not the individuals, but the kind of people, the whole phenomenon I'm talking about here.
The most shameful thing of all is that I'm always at a loss for words as to how or why I can or even should persuade these injured parties to stick with it.
It's like dealing with so many rape victims.
Now, sometimes I can bring them around and convince them to at least continue to support the Northwest Imperative, but frankly, most times not.
The rage and the sense of betrayal are too deep.
Okay, I'm wandering, I'm rambling, I've covered this ground before, so let's get back to our Harry Houdini.
Believe it or not, all of this does have a point.
Anyway, to cut to the chase, four years ago or so, our specific Harry Houdini, whom I refer to, was viciously and evilly betrayed by some people he made the mistake of trusting.
I don't have his permission to discuss his case in detail here, so I won't do it, and in any case, the actual details aren't really relevant because it's the same old song.
It's a story that anyone who has been associated with the movement will be depressingly familiar with.
Harry didn't end up going to prison because of the behavior of these jackasses.
But he sustained a great deal of personal injury and loss.
He was boiling with rage and disgust at the way he'd been abused and betrayed by people who should have been his friends and his brothers, and I could tell he was building up to a disappearance.
Sometimes I can tell, you know.
Sometimes I get a request from the person to take him off all the lists, almost always just without explanation.
And sometimes when that happens, I have some idea of what it's about, and sometimes I don't.
Sometimes it simply happens out of the blue.
Emails and Northwest observers start coming back when the guy closes down his email account in his post office box.
His phone numbers change.
He doesn't respond to emails or letters, so forth and so on.
But sometimes I can tell when it's coming.
And that's really hard for me, especially since I can see what's coming a mile off and the person simply won't talk to me.
It's not only my duty, it's my heartfelt desire to try and make things better for such a person as much as I can, to let them know that they are not all alone, and that there is someone who does understand what they're going through, having gone through it so often myself in the past.
Now, if they'll talk to me at all, I try to reach them and make them see that it is they who are the chosen of God, not the kikes.
They have a duty and a destiny that overrides and lifts them above the smell and the squish of all the raw sewage on the floor.
Sometimes I succeed, sometimes not.
But I really do appreciate them at least talking to me first before they vanish and letting me try.
Not just because it's my duty to try and preserve them as a racial asset, but because I really do want to help.
This movement really doesn't have to be so horrible and so sickening and so full of revulsion.
We don't have to be like this.
That's the internet and the decay in our character over the past 20 years talking, but it still doesn't have to be.
Like I've said before, there was a time when, okay, we may not have accomplished much, but we really did laugh a lot.
We had some good times.
Let me ask all you people.
When is the last time you can remember having a really good time in anything movement related?
I remember what it was like to be a happy warrior.
I'd like to be a happy warrior again.
And once we get our act together and start fighting the racial enemy, instead of ripping our own guts out with our teeth like we were mice in a cage that's too small, we can all be that.
Okay, getting back to Harry.
In his case, he wouldn't let me talk to him, and I failed.
One day he went poof.
Email coming back, postal mail coming back, number changed.
Apparently he physically moved as well.
He really didn't want us to find him.
And in any case, after one or two attempts, just to make sure that there wasn't something else wrong, I respected his decision, and I didn't go chasing after him.
You can't.
One of the things I learned through bitter experience is that there is indeed such a thing as free will.
And just because someone was born with a destiny, that doesn't mean they have to accept it.
I accepted mine, but others won't.
Hell, maybe most of us won't.
And that's why we have to make do with all the dysfunctional scum, because the white people who are supposed to be here helping are all AWOL out living hedonistic lives in America or whatever.
Okay, so Harry disappeared.
Then, a few weeks ago, I hear from him again.
I'll talk about that in a bit.
But before I do that, here's Canada's greatest folk singer, the late Stan Rogers.
Too thin the line that charged the heights and scrambled in the play.
Too thin the eastern township's got who showed them all the way.
And perhaps had you not fallen, you might be what Brock became.
But not one in ten thousand knows your name.
To say the name MacDonald, it would bring no muble call.
But the red coat stayed beside you when they saw the general fall.
We raised the banner then and set the heights aflame But not one in ten thousand knows your name You brought the field all standing With your courage and your luck But unknown to most You're lying there beside old General Brock So you know what it is to scale We're
Not one in ten thousand million years Not one in
ten thousand million years At Queen's
And now the general on his tower stands alone And there's lichen on Macdonald carved upon that weathered stone In a corner of the monument to glory you could claim But not one in ten thousand days Oh,
you rock the field all standing with your courage and your luck.
But unknown to most, you're lying there beside Just short of fame.
And have not won in ten thousand no really I'm not gonna die
For those of you who aren't maniacal history fanatics like me, that song was referring to the Battle of Kingston against the Americans during the War of 1812.
Okay, where were we?
Oh, yeah.
Our Harry Houdini disappeared for about four years or so, and then he contacts me again a few weeks ago.
Now, I won't read out selections from his actual emails, since, as is so often the case, I'm not a priest reading out a sinner from the altar here.
I'm discussing a human phenomenon.
One which will probably confront most of us at one time or another.
So let me paraphrase Harry's situation.
The first thing you should be aware of is that when he did his bunk, Harry was not completely isolated from the rest of so-called normal American society like a lot of us are.
He did have something else in his life to occupy his time and attention.
In his case, a kind of sport or hobby, which I won't get into.
It's one of those things that while I can't see it myself, I do understand that there are a lot of people who are embroiled in this activity, and to whom it personally means something.
It meant something to Harry.
My personal opinion is that it's nothing that's going to change the world in any way, and not really something white people need to be expending their time and their effort on at a period in history when we're in danger of literal physical extinction.
But, hey, that's just me, and my opinions are in a minority on just about everything.
Anyway, Harry was not a fool.
I repeat, he was an experienced activist, he'd been in it for a long time, and his white nationalism was ingrained in him.
So he understood that when he went dark, he would need something to fill the void in his life.
He explained to me when he got back in touch that he was of the opinion at the time that this sport or hobby of his and the friends and the socialization it provided would be sufficient to occupy his leisure time when he wasn't working and he could somehow work it up into a whole new life for himself away from white nationalism and all those crazy dysfunctional people that had screwed him so royally.
And for a while, it did.
But here's the thing, and all you guys need to pay attention here, because if you're not considering fleeing into the night right now, chances are that you will someday.
And when the time comes for you to make your decision, you need to be aware of all the ramifications.
What Harry hadn't counted on, or possibly what he had underestimated, was the fact that no matter how pissed off he was at the movement, and how disgusted he was with the behavior of certain individuals in it, America was still the same.
Imagine this country is a gigantic, backed-up toilet that hasn't been flushed for 200 years.
A toilet the size of an ocean.
And you're surrounded by one big, bubbling, steaming, nauseating sea of piss and shit.
I'm sorry if that sounds crude, but really, can you think of a better way to describe the world of Barack Hussein Obama?
Now imagine you've managed to scramble on to one of the few lifeboats available in this sea of raw sewage, and for a while you stay in the boat.
Now in that lifeboat, there are a few people that you can relate to who are okay, and some more people who are real assholes and who drive you nuts with their stupid silly talk and their revolting behavior.
And finally, you just can't stand it anymore.
You lose patience and you jump out of the boat.
Okay, you're out of the boat, and you don't have to put up with the repulsive people anymore.
But you still have to stay afloat and swim in the sea of shit.
Or perhaps the old saying about the frying pan in the fire would be a better analogy.
You may have left the movement, left the lifeboat, in order to try and find some personal peace and tranquility and make a proper life for yourself.
But you'll find that you can't ever really do that in a toilet bowl.
You still have to make a living under political correctness.
You still have to deal with the 101 insults, injuries, obstacles, problems, and dysfunctional monkey shines that occur in Obama's America every day.
And it's all terribly complicated by the fact that you know.
You know the truth about race.
You know the truth about the Jews.
You know that what you see on television and most of the internet is lies.
You can't watch a TV show or a movie without recognizing all the Jewish names when the credits roll.
Whereas before it was your so-called comrades who sent you into a rage, now it's the very sight of Barack and Michelle on TV or a website that sends your blood pressure skyrocketing.
You know why things don't work.
You know what's coming.
But now you're even more of a ghost than you were before, because now no one around you can see you or hear you or understand you.
And before...
When you were with the movement, there were a few people whom you could at least talk to, even if it was only chatting on the internet.
Now, there's nobody.
You have to watch and weigh every word you say.
Look over your shoulder all the time to see who's listening.
Make sure you never break cover.
You're still a spy behind enemy lines, but now you've cut your contact with the homeland.
Literally.
You find that you now have a secret.
Although you may have a few dumbass muggle friends you can drink beer and talk about TV and niggerball with, you can never talk to them about anything important because you might give yourself away.
In some very important ways, you are even more alone than you were before because now you know and you can't erase the knowledge from your brain.
Now that's what happened to our man Harry, and his story follows what's probably a pretty standard and predictable line.
He found out the hard way something that I could have told him before he did his flit if he had bothered to come to me and talk to me first.
Not only can you never erase from your mind the knowledge of the way the world really is that you gain when you're one of us, but the white nationalist movement is as addictive as crack cocaine.
Because even in its own often infantile and non-productive way, it lets you exercise and acknowledge the racial awareness that will now be a part of you and your life for the rest of your life.
Once you get that knowledge in your mind, periodically you have to let it out and give it a run.
You have to acknowledge its existence.
The movement lets you do that.
You have to do it, and eventually you're going to come crawling or sneaking back like a drug addict who tries to kick his habit but who can't, and who eventually has to go out looking for a street dealer.
Harry found that the world of his sport or hobby was not, in fact, any kind of adequate substitute for the life he had left behind.
His friends from that world were no doubt decent enough people, but he could never actually talk to them completely openly and truthfully.
He always had to keep his guard up and be careful what he said, lest they start looking at him funny.
Lest they understand that his mind was not fully under control, that he was not of the body, like they said on an old Star Trek story.
To give him his due, Harry was able to keep his vow to make a complete break with the movement for almost a year.
And then it started.
First it was sneaking little peeks at the old websites.
Then it was a Stormfront registration, using phony information and a screen name.
Then VNN.
And before Harry knew it, he was backed as a full-fledged internet Nazi, under a false name, of course.
Now, that satisfied him for a couple of years.
But politically and morally, the internet is empty calories, and in any case, Harry has enough personal integrity to feel ashamed of himself.
For sneaking onto various lists, including ours, while concealing his true identity.
Basically, he came to me wanting to know if he could come home in the figurative sense.
We haven't gotten too far into exactly what that entails, and of course, if he really wants to get down with the bonafide white resistance, he has to really come home to the Northwest, which he says he's now ready to do.
Well, we'll see.
That's one good thing about not having any formal organization that people can join or resign from or be kicked out of.
People, the time will come in all of your lives when you are so angry or disgusted or disillusioned that you want to resign or quit or just disappear because you're so sick of the whole mess.
And chances are, you'll have every right to be.
I'm telling you two things right now.
First off, don't bother to try and disappear.
You can't.
Your own mind and your own knowledge won't let you.
Once you know the truth, you can never again become one of the mindless muggle herd a lot of people have tried.
I've tried.
Take my word for it.
It can't be done.
The second thing I want to say to you is that the reason we have all these dysfunctional loons in the movement is because the good people like you either refuse to get personally involved to begin with, or else, because when you do get involved and you have one too many gooboo encounters, you get upset and you walk away.
When you do that, you leave the creeps and dysfunctionals on the field and in control of the ball.
I know that Americans have been taught all their lives to either find some way to move around obstacles or else to quit, never to overcome them.
We have to change that, and we will in the Northwest Nationalist Movement.
I'm doing my best.
So how's about you stick around and give me a hand?
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.