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April 19, 2012 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
01:04:48
20120419_rfn
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Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so.
Hush, a 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, right the north to you and me.
One more door for signal, token, whistle of the marching tune.
For your bike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon.
With your mind upon your shoulder By the rising of the moon Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes Were watching through the night Many a manly chest was grobbing For the blessed warning light Wars passed along the valleys Like the man she's lonely crew And a thousand blades were flashing At the rising of the moon At the rising of the moon At the rising of the moon And a thousand
blades were fleshing out Rising all the way It's April the 19th, 2012.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
Today is the 17th anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing, April the 19th, 1995.
God, has it been 17 years already?
Lordy, lordy, time flies when you're having fun.
You know, it occurs to me that there are people involved with the movement today who either were too young to remember that episode, or else they weren't paying any attention to the many political and conspiratorial aspects of the case.
But until 9-11 occurred six years later, OKC was at one stage the ultimate conspiracy theory magnet on the American scene.
So, let's take a walk down memory lane for the benefit of those listeners who, for whatever reason, weren't around back then.
Now, the first and foremost thing you need to bear in mind is that we do not know what happened in Oklahoma City.
It is, however, pretty obvious to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that the official version of events there is an almost total fabrication.
So is the whole Andreas Strasmeier Elohim City Mayor's Nest.
That got cooked up by the mysterious individual using the name J.D. Cash, when it became so painfully obvious that no one believed the official version of the bombing, that the federal government actually needed a kind of officially sanctioned conspiracy theory that would point the finger away from the real John Doe No.
2, and so they deployed Cash, who came up with Elohim City and Andrea Strassmeyer.
But that one was so flimsy, I think even the feds themselves were embarrassed by it.
Anyway, there are certain obvious facts and aspects which I think are by now so glaringly apparent regarding Oklahoma City that we can all pretty much agree on them.
Timothy McVeigh and, to a lesser extent, Terry Nichols were involved in the bombing but were by no means the only ones.
My guess would be that the act was carried out by a group of between five to seven persons based on the logistics involved.
Nichols always struck me as pretty much a dumb patsy, a peripheral character who just kind of seems to wander in and out of the story, but he never says much.
To my knowledge, I don't think he's ever issued any kind of public statement or account of his own alleged involvement.
He was also married to a Filipino mail-order bride, which pretty much knocks on the head the idea that these guys were in any way racially inclined.
Timothy McVeigh is also something of a puzzler.
His perfect army record, including his Bronze Star, which he won in the Gulf, his high degree of discipline and self-control when captured, and his refusal to rat out his friends are not typical of the existing white nationalist movement, put it that way.
The fact that McVeigh did not immediately start screaming for a plea bargain and ratting out everybody in sight always indicated to me that he was not one of us.
I'm not being funny here, guys.
That is a horrifically sad commentary on the state of the white nationalist movement today, but what can I tell you?
It's realistic.
Judging from his behavior, McVeigh may well have been a government agent or an MKUltra-style CIA mind-control experiment along the lines of the movie Telefon.
Perhaps one day in 1995, somebody called him on the phone and told him he had miles to go before he sleeps.
There's something extremely suspicious about the way in which McVeigh was apprehended.
It's almost as if, having carried out this meticulously planned and timed act of destruction, he was programmed to self-destruct, to surrender, by doing something stupid like roaring down the highway at 100 miles an hour with no license plate.
Even more suspiciously, Knowing the fate that awaited him, this decorated, military-trained combat soldier who was armed with a handgun surrendered like a little lamb to a single highway patrolman.
Let's move on to the John Does.
John Doe number two and three.
They exist.
Given the extensive eyewitness testimony, I honestly don't think that there can be any doubt of this.
Now, the fact that the United States government denies their existence in the face of literally hundreds of eyewitnesses all across the country over a period of six months or so also indicates that John Doe No. 2 and the even more mysterious John Doe No. 3 are of crucial importance to this entire episode in our nation's history.
In fact, I once heard an hour-long program on NPR that was nothing but interview after interview with people who had seen one or both of the John Does in the company of McVeigh or Nichols or the Ryder truck.
These men...
Exist.
Who are they?
Where are they now?
Why were they part of the bomb plot?
Who placed them there?
What were their orders?
Why do the United States government and the FBI continue to make complete fools out of themselves by continuing to deny their existence?
They must know full well that nobody believes them.
And yes, I do know who John Doe number two is.
His identity is probably the worst kept secret in the entire movement, and yet neither I nor anyone else has ever been able to persuade the media to so much as whisper his name.
As some of you know, the might and majesty of the almighty law itself was brought to bear on me in order to silence me on this subject by force.
At least until the trials were over and McVeigh was dead and the official version of events in Oklahoma City is now chiseled in stone.
Of course, nowadays, nobody seems to give a damn what I say.
The regime has obviously figured out that nobody's listening.
The blackout is still on, of course.
I once had a long telephone interview with Kevin Flynn, the guy who wrote the Silent Brotherhood book about the Order.
He was fascinated by Oklahoma City, and so I took a chance and I laid it all out for him.
Flynn swore he was going to be on the next plane out to Texas and get it all from me, chapter and verse.
I never heard from him again, and needless to say, his plan to book on the Oklahoma City bombing never materialized.
Obviously, somebody took Mr. Flynn aside for a little come-to-Jesus meeting.
That's one thing I think we all have to accept.
Basically, the sons of bitches have gotten away with it.
We are never going to be allowed to know what really happened in Oklahoma City.
So, what did happen?
Frankly, just between you and me and the secret police and the U.S. attorneys who are listening, I think it's pretty clear that Oklahoma City was a dry run for 9-11 six years later.
A dry run that went bad.
It wasn't supposed to be so bloody.
The bomb wasn't supposed to go off.
The original conspiracy called for placing a powerful bomb that did not explode in order to give the Clinton administration, acting through frontmen like Jew Congressman Charles Schumer, the power to bring in draconian anti-terrorist legislation, which in its original form involved the confiscation of all privately owned firearms, the censorship of the internet, the granting of extensive wiretap and spying power to the federal government, and the general suppression of the First Amendment rights of freedom of thought and freedom of expression.
In other words, pretty much what they did six years later.
My favorite piece of Oklahoma City legislation was Charlie Schumer's bill.
Bear in mind he was a congressman.
He's a senator now, but in those days he was in Congress trying to take everybody's guns away.
Anyway, Schumer introduced a bill into Congress that would ban and penalize what he termed baseless and malicious conspiracy theory about the federal government.
No, I'm not kidding.
Well, that one didn't get through.
Very little of it did, largely, I think, because Oklahoma City was so obviously some kind of black op, and no one could quite figure out what it was, and for whatever reason, the Congress of the time just simply was not willing to bow down to Clinton and give him all that power.
Maybe there were already rumors circulating about Monica Lewinsky or whatever.
As to why the bomb went off, my personal theory is that John Doe No. 2 was essentially supposed to ride herd on McVeigh.
McVeigh and make sure that there weren't any casualties, but he panicked.
He bailed early.
McVeigh was military trained, and he actually managed to construct a detonator that worked.
One of the most significant aspects of the whole Oklahoma City thing was the fact that a number of witnesses observed the bomb squad and other emergency response personnel in the parking lot of the Alfred Murr Federal Building at about 6.30 that morning.
Apparently that was when the truck was supposed to roll up.
But it didn't.
John Doe No. 2 disappeared, McVeigh rolled into the city about 9 o 'clock, and the rest is history.
The regime eventually got what they wanted.
They just had to wait six years and bring in the Israeli Mossad to do a proper job and scare everybody into giving up their freedom.
Can you say Patriot Act?
Can you say Military Commissions Act of 2006?
Can you say National Defense Authorization Act?
Sure you can.
Tell you what, rather than me just sit here and rant and rave and tell you what happened and then have lunatic goat dancers start in with, You can't prove that, Harold.
You're just fighting a feud and everybody knows you're FBI yourself and you sacrificed your cat to the devil back in Raleigh and Mr. Schumberg stole my stapler.
Blah, blah, blah.
Why don't any of you folks who are interested in the subject hit the internet and the books, but begin your research with a few basic questions in mind.
Question.
Was there a second explosion within the Alfred Murr building?
Apparently seismic recorders at the University of Oklahoma and Tulsa recorded a significant second explosion eight seconds after the initial blast.
Question.
Where were all the feds?
All the original reports stated that not one single badge-carrying FBI or BATF agent was present in the building at 9 o 'clock on a weekday morning.
BATF now denies this and says it was just an ordinary working day, but apparently that's bullshit.
According to Wikipedia, at least, it was not a normal working day.
Now, I admit Wikipedia is not the most reliable source in the world, but I'll just cite that one, because for something like compiling statistics, it's probably reasonably accurate, and this is the official version now.
The official stats are that there were 646 people in the Alfred Murrah building, virtually all of which were injured in some way when it came down.
But of the dead, only 99 worked for the federal government.
Where the hell were all those federal employees of every branch of government?
Odd, in a federal building, don't you think?
And only eight of the victims were anybody that might be called a badge-carrying federal agent.
Four were from the United States Secret Service.
I guess they didn't get the memo.
Two were from the United States Customs Service.
One was from the Drug Enforcement Administration, and one was from the United States Department of Housing and Urban Development, and I didn't even know they had badge-carrying agents with guns, but I guess they do.
So I repeat, where were all the FBI and the ATF agents?
Here's another question.
Were there official records on the Waco siege and the mass murder stored in the Alfred Murrah building?
Some say yes, and some say no.
Here's another question.
Were there large quantities of explosives stored by the BATF in bays under the daycare center?
Question.
What was the exact itinerary of Timothy McVeigh in the months before the bombing?
Where did he go?
Whom did he meet?
Whom did he telephone?
How did he make a living during that time?
Okay, tell you what, there's a couple of questions I usually ask at this point, but I'll pass on those this time around, because the morons from that 90s show will just start screaming that I'm quote-unquote fighting a feud.
And as fascinating as all this is, it was in fact 17 years ago.
The sons of bitches have gotten away with it clean.
Nobody's interested anymore.
The world has moved on for the worse.
And we really do need to stop wallowing in the 1990s and look to the future insofar as we're capable of it, which doesn't seem to be very far, but we need to give it a shot.
One of these days, the entire white nationalist movement, or racially conscious community, or whatever you want to call this thing of ours, Needs to sit down and conduct what they call in AA a searching and fearless moral inventory of themselves.
And we need to at long last address what happened to us in the period roughly between 1987 and 2002 and just who did what and why.
But that day of reckoning is going to be a long, long time coming and there's really no point in talking about it now.
Okay, enough nostalgia for the good old days.
This is Mecham and Clancy.
Whatever you say, say nothing.
When you talk about you know what.
Or if you know who should be, you know what you'll get.
It'll take you off to you know where.
you know you know you know you know you know you know you know you know what I
Whatever you say, say not alone When you talk about you know what Or if you know who should hear you You know what you'll get That'll take you off You know where for you wouldn't know how long So for you know who's sake Don't let anyone hear you singing this song You all know who I'm speaking of When I'm answering you know who Or if you know who should hear you You know
what he'd do So if you don't see me again You'll know why I'm away And if anyone asks you where I've gone Here's what you must say Whatever you say, say not alone When you talk about you know what Or if you know who should hear you You know what you'll get That'll take you off You know where for you wouldn't know how long So for you know who's sake Don't let anyone hear you singing this song
Oh, yeah.
I better end my song, I've already said too much For the less you say and the less you hear, the less you'll go astray And the less you think and the less you do, the more you'll hear them say Whatever you say, say
nothing, come on, when you talk about you know what For you know who say, you know what you'll get So they'll take you off, you know where, for you wouldn't know how long So for you know who's sake, don't let anyone hear you singing a song When you talk about you know what?
For if you know who should hear you, you know what you'll get.
They'll take you off to you nowhere, but you won't know how long.
So for you know who's sake, don't let anyone hear you singing this song.
And whatever you say, say nothing.
When you talk about you know what?
But if you know who's sick, you know what he'll get done, he'll take you off.
You know where for you, you know how long.
So for you know who's sick, don't let anyone hear you singing this song.
For you know who's sick, don't let anyone hear you singing this song.
Thank you.
So wollen wir uns wiedersehen, ein Erdach, der wird wollen wir stehen.
Die Heizkili-Malem, die Heizkili-Malem.
He was referring to some complaints people had about the panel discussions, saying they were silly and unproductive, and they really just wanted to hear Harold rant and rave like usual.
So he's been stepping that up a bit, but of course people will always find something to complain about.
This is our show.
We decide what to say and who to include.
I'm Axis Sally, and I say what I want.
At least now that I have opening music, those who prefer not to listen can go put their socks in the dryer when they hear my part.
If we got rid of the panels, someone would complain that they were gone.
If we got rid of specific people, someone would say they wanted to hear them.
My thoughts are, if someone is not happy with the program and they're not in the homeland, they have no business voicing their opinion on anything.
If you are in the homeland, especially in Washington, and you think you have a great idea for the show, why not show up and be a guest?
You can even do it on a day when I'm not here.
Personally, I think it's great to have more people other than Harold and myself.
It lets people know that we really aren't the only ones here rambling about niggers and stupid governments into a microphone to fill up our spare time.
Yes, it's true, there are actual, real, other people who want to be a part of this thing.
Not only that, some of our panel guests are people who actually came here from other states specifically to work with us.
I think that every racialist in the homeland has something to contribute to the movement in the way of words.
Not all of us are gifted writers, but we all have something to say, even the dumb ones, and I think this program is a great space in which everyone can be heard.
I like how sometimes it's hilarious, sometimes it's intellectual, and sometimes it's all Harold's doom and gloom and Grandpa Simpson stories.
But this is my segment, and I say what I want, and right now I'd like to let everyone know what one of our comrades behind the wire is facing.
Jake Lasky of Eugene, Oregon, who was sentenced to 15 years in federal prison because he threw a rock at a synagogue, informed us that the state is terminating his parental rights and placing his daughter for adoption, so he will not be able to raise her or have any contact with her when he is released in a few years.
This doesn't sound so unusual, except that Child Protective Services is calling in an expert on white supremacy to testify on their behalf.
None other than a certain sociology professor at Portland State University, who is also the creator of the Citizens Against Hate Crimes site, where people can anonymously report hate crimes.
Just don't try to report anything that niggers do to whites.
Some of my old skinhead buddies tried that and it didn't make it onto the site.
Presumably, this dewy-looking liberal scum has never been in contact with Jake Lasky, his daughter, or the rest of his family, and therefore knows nothing about what is best for this particular child.
But since he is such an expert on white supremacy, he has decided to waltz in and speak against Jake and recommend that his daughter be turned over to the state.
Now, Harold's being protective of my own situation and my own children because he knows I went through something similar to this just last year, and he's also saying that I can't name this human turd, so I just have to insert my little disclaimer here and say that I'm not personally threatening one individual.
I'm threatening everyone.
I always thought that in a child custody hearing, those who gave statements about what was best for the child would be people who had some knowledge of the child's background, not just people who were self-proclaimed experts on random things that may interest one of the parents.
The lowest, most race-trainer thing a person can do is interfere with another white family and do something that negatively impacts a white child.
This is much worse than Morris Dees taking white nationalist property and selling it off.
At least there is something for him to gain out of that.
What can this faggy professor possibly gain from causing a man to lose his child?
Nothing.
This is what he does for fun.
Just by looking at his picture, I can see that life hasn't exactly been what he thought it would be.
He looks like someone who would be immediately sent to Crematory 1 right after getting off the train.
Jake wanted me to get the word out, which I will gladly do.
I have no problem exposing scum who interfere with white families.
But I also have no problem with speaking the truth, and Jake, here's what's going to happen.
Your daughter is gone.
You will most likely never see her again unless she makes an effort to contact you as an adult, which she will not do, because she will be raised to hate you and to think that you abandon her.
She will have a horrible life, probably being passed around from one home to the next, most likely raised by non-whites out of spite.
This is what white nationalists are forced to live with due to the fact that the NVA does not yet exist.
We lose our homes, jobs, and finally our families.
We are allowed to exist, we are just not allowed to function or perform the most basic, instinctual duty that we all have, that of securing the existence of our children.
There is not one thing any of us can do for Jake and his family.
We can get the word out, we can be a voice for someone who right now does not have a voice.
And since that is all I can do, that is what I will do.
I will sing, I will sing, I will sing, I will sing, I will sing, I will sing, I will sing.
I'd like to add a few comments here to Sally's piece.
Perhaps it would be a good idea for me to explain the whole rationale that I use when deciding what can and can't be said on this program, because this may actually turn out to be useful for others among you out there who are considering doing your own podcasts, and I know we've got some people who do their own podcasts and some who are considering starting one up.
I'm not kidding when I say that there are almost certainly FBI agents and U.S. attorneys out there who listen to this podcast every week with their hands cupped around their ears bent down low over the speakers, listening to every word I say, parsing every sentence that I say in the hopes of trying to find something that they can use to charge me with a crime and prosecute me and shut me up by force.
That basically is what federal law enforcement spends a lot of its time doing these days, silencing critics of the existing order and critics of Obama and critics of the existing regime, basically silencing dissent through force.
The Constitution, of course, says that the federal government isn't supposed to be in that business, but they simply ignore the Constitution.
I mean, who's going to make them observe it?
This is the whole weakness of democracy.
We have no way of actually compelling these sons of bitches to observe their own rules and their own laws.
Anyway, my understanding of, I won't say the law because law has become increasingly meaningless in this society, but my understanding of current federal practice is that it is, well...
I won't say allowable because they really don't want to allow it, but they won't prosecute and they won't attempt to silence someone by force if you discuss actual regime change in America in theory.
Lenin used to call this a sapien language, the language of fable.
However, the minute you get down to specifics is when you possibly run into trouble.
What they're trying to do, of course, is they're trying to catch me saying something, or Sally saying something, or something on this program that could, by some wild taffy pull stretch, be construed as threatening somebody, specifically threatening an individual.
Now, this is a lot easier to do than you might think, since the courts have more or less redefined the whole concept of a threat.
To anything that quote-unquote makes someone feel apprehensive.
This is basically what they tried to get Bill White on, among other things.
Of course, Bill White actually asked for it.
He did some pretty dumb things like posting names and addresses on the internet, which of course could be construed as threatening individuals.
But apparently he also wrote either a letter or an email to some bank, some financial institution he was involved with down in Virginia Beach, I believe it was.
And they got some little negress, some sapphire type up there on the stand, and she was saying, oh, I read that email from that nasty, evil man, Bill White, and I knew he was a racist, and I just felt so apprehensive.
I was in fear of my life when I saw that letter he wrote, and that kind of crap.
So basically, Bill White was sentenced to X number of years in prison for writing an irate letter or an email, I can't remember now which it was, anyway, for writing an irate letter to a financial institution he felt was screwing him.
Most people, of course, if they wrote an irate letter to their financial institution, they would just simply have it tossed in a wastebasket, but because this was Bill White...
Because he had received media publicity as a white nationalist when he wrote an irate letter to a financial institution, all of a sudden then it became a threat.
That is the type of completely grotesque stretches that prosecutors, both state and federal, will engage in in order to silence dissent, which, of course, under the First Amendment of the United States Constitution, they have no right to do, but then prosecutors and judges and other court...
Functionaries, appeals judges, and whatnot have now made whole careers out of ignoring the Constitution.
I tell you what, let's just clear this up for the record.
I like the way Sally herself put it.
On this show, the Northwest Front is not threatening anybody.
We're threatening everybody.
We are threatening the entire social order that is seeking to destroy the white race.
We are threatening those who are threatening our people with genocide.
Is that sufficiently clear?
We're not threatening anybody.
We're threatening everybody.
So, Sally did discuss her piece with me beforehand, and on my recommendation, she did not name this particular individual.
Now, he is engaging in public activity by interfering in Jake Lasky's family situation, which he has no right at all to do.
He, therefore, becomes what is known as a limited public figure within the law, and his behavior is or should be subject to public criticism.
In any sane or free society, it would be.
But because we are who we are, there was always the possibility that some moron in a district attorney's office would claim that we were in some way threatening him or targeting him or victimizing him or blah, blah, blah, blah.
So, I recommended to Sally that she not name the man.
I just thought you guys kind of deserved a little bit of an explanation as to how we reach those decisions here.
I'm not happy with this situation, but we do live in a real world and sometimes you have to make concessions to reality.
It shouldn't be this way.
White people in a free white nation should be free to stand up and say whatever they want to say.
It used to be like that in this country.
No more.
Or more specifically, the often unpleasant topic of something that is a reality for all of us and what may come sooner than desired for those of us who serve the white nationalist cause.
You may remember a few months ago when we discussed the death of one of our strongest comrades.
Many white nationalists are experts at preparing for what will happen when the balloon goes up.
You have your bug-out bags and your dried food and batteries.
You might consider the future when it comes to your children's college or your wife's impending surgery or your parents needing to go to a nursing home.
But what about when these people die?
Have you thought about how you will handle this, or are you just hoping you'll die first and not have to deal with it?
One of my strongest points is that I am never afraid or uneasy when it comes to discussing horrible things that no one wants to think of.
So this is what I'm doing here, asking you to think of and talk about your plans regarding the death of people you love more than anything.
You always have the option of pre-purchasing a cemetery plot or a space to bury cremated remains, but if you don't have the money to do this right now, you can at least let your family and other important people know of your preferences.
I happen to own a cemetery plot in the town where I grew up.
This was an impulse purchase for myself several years ago, but I may end up donating this to Harold, perhaps sometime next week.
Many cemeteries have rules about what can be placed on a headstone or gravesite, so if you had visions of being buried under a huge swastika and having your loved ones leave bottles of mead and stupid red shoelaces on your grave, be aware this probably will not happen, and no amounts of whining from your survivors are going to change anyone's mind.
Clearly, I want to be buried.
Don't throw me in an oven like some worthless Jew.
What about you?
Do you want to be buried or cremated?
Be sure to let people know.
And don't say you want a Viking funeral.
Those are illegal, and you'll never find a funeral home that will do one, and if your dumb friends say they'll do it for you, they're lying.
Same goes for other retarded requests, like being skinned, ground into dog food, or dismembered and put on display.
Some people think they're being really intelligent and original with these charming suggestions.
Most people I talk to want to be cremated.
So, what do you want done with the ashes?
Keep in mind that if your ashes are scattered, your loved ones won't have a place to go with your name on it where they can leave flowers or sit and think about you.
Just one more thing to consider.
Cremated remains can be divided up with a portion to be buried or kept at home and a portion to be scattered.
As far as finances are concerned, it's not my place to tell families what to buy or not, but I can say that when it comes to prepaid funeral services, not including cemetery plots or urn spaces, I have seen far more people get scammed and hurt than I have seen helped.
If you have that kind of money to spend, I'd recommend life insurance policies.
Get them for your children, too.
If you were to suddenly lose one, this will mean that you can afford to take time off work rather than have to go back right away while you are still wracked with the worst grief and sorrow.
I suggest you keep a file on hand with your preferences and update this as needed.
Include things such as recent photos, important documents, and all instructions.
And a word to those families who are living together without being married.
No judgment, just be aware that this may affect your rights when it comes to your partner's final arrangements.
Anything from spending a few private moments with the body to arranging all details of the service or burial can be denied to those who are not legally married, unless the couple plans for this well in advance and goes through the legal process of naming each other the administrator of the estate, a process about as involved as getting married in the first place.
I hope that everyone will someday get comfortable when it comes to discussing things no one wants to face.
Don't be afraid to speak the unspeakable and think of the unthinkable.
Death is around us all the time, and it may come sooner than we like for a few of us.
We are warriors and must not fear what awaits us all.
I have an extensive knowledge of the rules and regulations around this particular subject, so shoot me a private email if you have questions or ideas.
I'll just warn you in advance, you'll never find someone willing to extract those gold teeth for you.
At the nigger crematory, they won't cremate your dad.
They just throw your dearly departed in the backyard instead.
They claim the oven broke down, but that was a lie.
Don't throw me in some niggers!
Backyard when I die.
No, don't throw in some niggers.
Backyard when I die.
I used to like the idea of cremation.
Cause I was afraid some gay undertaker might get the inclination.
To have sex with my rotting corpse, but a worse fate would lie in being thrown into some niggers' backyard when I die.
No, don't throw me in some niggers' backyard when I die.
Leave it to the niggers to put cement in your urn, when all they had to do was burn, baby, burn.
Let the nigger claim to read, they won't cremate your dead.
They just throw your dearly departed in the backyard instead.
They said the oven was broken down, turned out to be a lie.
Don't throw me in some niggers'backyard when I die.
No, don't throw me in some niggers'backyard when I die.
No, don't throw me in some niggers'backyard when I die.
Don't throw me in some niggers backyard when I die.
Don't throw me in some niggers backyard when I die.
Anyway, speaking of threats and bloodshed and violence in the streets, here is an audio piece from Comrade Jason in Tulsa, Oklahoma, regarding some recent munkoid killings out his way.
I want to talk about a recent event where I live that made national headline, the apparently random shooting of five Negroes in North Tulsa in the early morning of Friday the 6th of April.
The black sewers shot had absolutely no connection to one another, so it was pretty immediately obvious from initial reports that someone had likely gone through the several black neighborhoods, randomly targeting whatever niggers happened to cross their path.
And the shooters appeared to have been a 32-year-old white man and a 19-year-old light-skinned mestizo or part American Indian.
whose father was killed in an argument almost two years to the day before the shootings by a Negro who was charged, apparently not for murder, but for, quote, pointing a firearm, and is scheduled to be released in 2014 after serving only four years.
The kid posted on his Facebook page that his father was killed by a, quote, fucking nigger, and so it's almost certain that these were revenge killings against this savage race that stole this kid's family member away from him, as American blacks do countless other American families every single year.
Now, if you know much about racial strife in the history of America, you may have heard of the Tulsa Race Riot of 1921.
The incident which sparked the riot was one in which a black man was thought and reported in the papers to have sexually assaulted a white woman in an elevator, an incident which, by all accounts, was almost certainly not that, but which was sensationalized by the press.
There were several allusions to this riot in the coverage of the April 6th revenge killings.
And that's to be expected, since these shootings were in the historically black Greenwood area of Tulsa, which during that riot was almost completely burned to the ground.
It was called Greenwood in 1921 by the blacks that lived there, but white Tulsans, to include my maternal grandfather, usually just called it Niggertown.
The Oklahoma Historical Society's Encyclopedia of Oklahoma History and Culture says the 1921 Tulsa riot is, quote, Okay, well, let me just raise my hand here and say I'm one Oklahoman who is not haunted by these riots.
It does matter to me whether the actual assault happened or not, since I'm an Aryan and all real Aryans value truth.
But it matters more to me that the whites of that era were actually able to visit penalties on Negroes who crossed the line in their dealings with our people.
I reject characterizing the 1921 riot as the, quote, worst example of racial violence in American history.
Instead, I think of it as the greatest example of spontaneous racial defense of our women and people in American history.
And I have to tell you I'm damn proud it happened in my state.
In the same way I'm proud that Oklahoma was the place that two guys visited a little vengeance on the nigger race who took a young man's father away from him.
American blacks are out of control today because America long ago stopped controlling its blacks.
They almost never anymore, as a group, suffer the penalties they deserve for all the harm and pain and misery and sorrow that they inflict upon us.
They bring formerly nice neighborhoods to ruin all across this country.
and turn vast swathes of our cities into filthy, unlivable, crime-ridden outposts of the fourth world.
They deserve blowback from us that they used to get but never get anymore for constantly killing and robbing us, assaulting our children in our schools, sexually assaulting and brutalizing our wives, mothers, sisters, and nieces, and everything else we have to endure at the hands of these mental and emotional primitives who in their own lands of Africa never even invented the wheel or any system of writing.
Thomas Jefferson famously said that the tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.
Well, it's very similar with, let's call it, the tree of white safety.
In a mixed-race nation with fourth-world black Africans in America and today's third-world Arabs flooding Europe, when an alien race living in your midst oversteps itself and hurts your citizens and their own land, retribution has to be swift, and sometimes it's got to be brutal.
And the alien group must sometimes pay as a group, otherwise things will start to fall apart.
What whites have forgotten that we used to understand is that to safeguard your own people, sometimes you have to lynch a few niggers.
Sometimes you have to burn down nigger town.
And I'm only talking about this now because it's timely, but I do think that we need to be reconciled in our own minds about this aspect of the past.
We need to get it out of our head that it was bad.
It wasn't bad.
It was necessary.
What was bad was that it was made necessary by the corrosive racial situation of having our society weakened by the presence of non-white alien strangers that we can never truly come to know or accommodate because they are so different from us.
Especially ones as stupid and worthless and intolerable as the black race constantly shows itself to be.
It's just unworkable and integrated society with these incredibly alien savages.
It just doesn't work.
But it's clear that days past when burning down Niggertown to keep this genetic rabble in its place would do us any good whatsoever.
We used to be able to do this, this hard and nasty work.
And don't fool yourselves.
It's hard and nasty.
You don't want this in your society.
But it was spontaneous.
Generally, this was something that seemed to be instinctual and just understood by the white man as being necessary to keep these savages under control, to protect our people, to protect our women.
Which is something apparently white men don't ever try to do any longer, is protect their women from these savages.
But the key was, we used to be able to do it.
And our society and civilization were better off because of it.
Today, however, our Jew-created weakness, the Jew-injected weakness in the white man's mind and in his heart and in his soul, shows itself to all the dark and jealous people all across the world who, unfortunately now, thanks to Jewish communist-driven immigration policies in both America and Europe, these darkies know that they can come and take our lands from us and inherit everything we've ever built.
So what are we going to do about it?
I guess a better question might be, what are you going to do about it?
What are you going to do about it?
What am I going to do about it?
The answer is clearly not to go shoot up a nigger neighborhood.
The time when that would help things ended with the people who drew the wrong conclusions about the Tulsa race riots and with the loss of white control over the police forces and the apparatus of the state in the 1950s and 60s to niggers and Jews and every other person besides white people.
What we can do today is get on board with the white resistance as embodied in the Northwest Front.
And lay the foundations of a future white nation of supportive, racially conscious whites somewhere in this dying country that can become the white refuge for all of the North American continent 100 years from now, when every place in America will be some non-white alien version of a Tulsa nigger town, and there will be nowhere else left to run.
That's what we can do.
We can at least do that.
We will need the future white nation.
We will need this Northwest American Republic.
We will need it.
In the absolute worst kind of way.
You know it and I know it.
So, the truth is, we'd better get started preparing it for the future.
We'd better get started building it.
Good evening, comrades.
Tonight I'm going to talk about a fascinating book called Lucifer's Court.
And this was a work originally written by Otto Rohan, who was commissioned by the SS in the 1930s.
And he was an archaeologist and historian who was interested in researching the Cathar sect.
This was a group that existed during the Middle Ages.
And in order to research this sect, he travels mostly throughout France and Spain.
And he writes a travelogue of all his journeys.
He goes to various sites associated with this heretical group, and he talks about their saint and of their stories.
And many of these stories contain references to roses, and he says that this is where the idea of the rosary came from.
Apparently, the Cathars were a group that was opposed to oaths-taking, and for this reason, a Cathar could not be formally married.
And so in the Middle Ages, if you wanted to make sure that someone was not a Cathar, if you could prove that they were legally married, then they were not a member of this sect.
Members of the sect also were opposed to any type of killing, and therefore did not eat meat.
But they did eat fish, which is somewhat odd, because certainly fish are alive.
But there are many stories of Jesus as a fisherman, so I guess by this they took that it was okay to eat fish, but not, for example, I guess, rabbits or sheep.
So, at any rate, because they were considered heretics, they were eventually wiped out by the Catholic Church, which they considered to be a Satan, because obviously the Church opposed to this group.
But they felt that Lucifer was different from Satan, and they felt that Lucifer had been a force for higher evolution, and that the Grail was a stone that actually had fallen from Lucifer's crown.
So that was where our idea of the Grail came from.
And this group, according to the author, was influenced by pagan ideas of Apollo.
And Baldar, because all of these names indicate the Lightbringer.
They thought that a Lightbringer is a force for higher intellect.
And in this sect, there were a lot of weavers and also a lot of knights.
And from the knights in this sect, we get the idea of chivalry and courtly love, which is a love that is always beyond someone's reach.
And from this sect, we get the story of Parzival, and eventually we also get the story of Don Quixote.
And also, really, the Germanic fascination was false.
So, reading this book actually explained a lot of the things that I studied in college.
I never quite knew where these things came from, but it's explained in this book.
At least from the point of view of the author.
And this author really sees National Socialism as a revival of European paganism.
Okay, so that's where the relevance of this book comes in.
Because as I was reading this book in the first few chapters, I was asking myself, is this book really suitable for RFN?
Because, really...
It was this sect in the Middle Ages, and they were somewhat biblical, and they were somewhat pagan.
But what does this really have to do with anything?
How is this relevant?
So the author ties that in, and to the author it's relevant because he sees the National Socialist ideology as the revival of this type of heretical thinking, which he thinks is very good.
And then in the final chapter, Our author journeys to Iceland, and he's relatively disappointed in Iceland because it's very desolate, and it's very cold there, obviously.
But he has a long conversation with his tour guide about how in Germanic religion, nature was very important, and divinity was found in nature.
And so again, I think that's a place where he ties in the various themes.
Now, the trans...
The translator of this book takes a very different view from Rohan, and the translator feels that National Socialism is actually very monotheistic, and therefore the translator feels that this author is kind of at cross-purposes with what he attempts to proselytize.
So you get two different views of the situation in this book.
So I suppose that's always interesting to see how things are interpreted.
So this book is also very beautifully written, and I would really suggest that you read this book slowly and you really savor all the verses and all the interconnections that the author makes.
When I finally finish this book, I can understand why one of our comrades requested this review.
So I hope all of you enjoyed this review.
This is a book that I normally would not have chosen to read, but I decided, well, you know, now that somebody asked for it, I'm curious.
so I decided to read it, and I hope you'll find the time, perhaps, to read this book, because I found it very enjoyable.
Outro Music.
Thank you.
Okay, folks, once again, I'm running long, and on top of that, I got another registered letter this week from the FCC demanding more diversity and minority viewpoint representation on the show.
And so, in order to make time for that, I can either leave out the third music cut, or I can leave out my closing monologue.
Now, since some of you have been complaining that there's not enough Herald on here, I guess I'd better go ahead and just do the diversity thing and maybe get that over with for another few months before they start pestering me again.
I finally found out where Dry Ice Washington lives, over in one of the projects in Rainier Valley, so I don't have to go hunting for him at the bus station.
And I went to try and get him to do a clip for us, but he was simply too drunk and incapable to do so.
I don't think he ever got over Herman Cain being run out of the Republican primary by the media.
So, instead of Dry Ice this week, I persuaded his wife, ho, whatever she is, to come on and provide the legally required African-American diversity.
Her name's Effie Sue, and at least I don't have to pay her with a three-gallon jug of Carlo Rossi.
She'll do it for a couple of boxes of banquet fried chicken.
So, folks, here's your taxpayer dollars in action here on Radio Free Northwest.
Hello there, fellow heathens.
I'm back again.
Yes, that's right, me, Effie Sue Washington.
And with good reason, too, baby.
Because it done happened, just like you and I knew it would.
The nigger done come out of Barack Hussein, Barry Soitoro, look at me, Obama.
Mm-hmm.
And what did it take to bring it out of him?
You know, a bunch of loudmouths got no clue what to do but get their faces on TV, useless Negroes milking the public like a Mississippi farmer does a dairy cow.
You see, black people are black people.
They can act like niggers and know when they do.
But generally, when they're acting like niggas, it's because they be hanging out with a bunch of niggas and possibly consuming the fruit of the devil from a 40-ounce bottle.
Now, niggas, on the other hand, are niggas.
They can't ever be black people, because being a nigger is their lifelong dream and their ambition.
Now, they wasn't born a nigger.
They were born black.
But they get to hanging around niggas, watching niggas on TV, listening to the ranting and raving of well-known niggas like, Reverend, I got two families, but I don't send Jesse Jackson.
Reverend Al, I love me some fried chicken shopping.
Oprah, fat ass, skinny for a while, then fatter than before, don't know whether I'm straight or lesbian, but all the white women love me Winfrey.
Barbara, nigger dick loving Walters.
Or...
Spike, I don't really like them New Orleans niggas, but goddamn what an opportunity to further my gone-to-shit career league.
Next thing you know, sure enough, the nigger will leap out from out of nowhere just like O.J. I'm gonna kill you and blame it on my son Simpson.
So, we done been watching this well-groomed, well-dressed, caramel-colored African Oreo for four years now, knowing that given the chance, the nigger would come out in him.
And lo and behold, it did.
And it didn't just ooze out, neither.
Not like no fungus.
Nah, baby.
It'd leap out like a cottonmouth water moccasin from a fresh patch of collared greens and said, "Here I am, motherfucker!
Deal with me!" And what did it take to scare it up?
Oh, yeah.
Trayvon, I never posed for a picture after I was 12 years old, Martin.
Now, give Little Black Obama your credit to never let a good crisis go to waste and get his nappy-headed Newport smoking ass on TV when he thinks there'd be a big viewing audience, 'cause that'd be exactly what he did.
But in doing so, he might as well have held up a sign that read, Hey, all you dumbass, dope-smoking, weed-wearing, shiny-faced pooch lips, I'm a nigger just like you.
When he uttered the phrase, If I had a son, he would look like Trayvon.
Nigger, please!
He might be black like Trayvon, and that'd be because of that cotton patch field negro you married to, not your sweat-smoker half-nigger sperm you'd be so proud of.
But as for what he would look like, if you had a son, nigger, It'd probably be a combination of Little Black Sambo and Dumbo the Elephant.
If he was unlucky enough to get them super jumbo-sized ears, your Spearchunk and tribal raised pappy pass on to you.
And knowing you, you would most probably name him something like Sam Dumbo.
Or, like most of your ancestors worshipping know nothing about your true heritage but proudly claim you come from slavery sperm types, you cut off the consonants and call him something like Libla Sadubo.
Oh yeah, I can see it now.
Libla Sadubo.
Then you'd proclaim it to come from some African tribe when it'd really come from a cartoon nigger and a beloved Disney cartoon, neither of which you had anything to do with and probably never read or watched when you was growing up in Indonesia before Mammy pawned you off on your white Jemima grandma.
Sayin' your son look like Trayvon.
Hell, you might as well say all us niggas look alike.
Ain't nobody surprised, though.
Hell, you be using the black population like it was a cotton crop that you pick and harvest when election time rolls around.
And ignore the rest of the time.
All the black people got you figured out.
And we know we ain't doing no damn better just cause your smiling, half-honky ass got elected president.
As a matter of fact, all of us be doing worse.
And of course, there be a few white people that think by voting you in, they get immediate forgiveness cause a few of them went over there to that godforsaken place where people was killing and eating each other a couple hundred years ago and bring a few of us back over here to work and breathe.
The niggas?
Hell, they don't know no better.
Ain't never gonna know no better, and they don't...
Give a shit.
All the niggas want is a nigger president.
And now it's painfully clear they got themselves one.
I'm going to tell you who ought to be president.
B.B. King.
That's right.
Because every poor person, black or white, in America is singing the blues.
And the thrill?
Ooh, the thrill is fucking gone, baby.
Thanks to you, super nigger.
Look, Barack, Barry, whatever the hell your name is, do me, black America, white America, all America, one big save.
Stay off that huge planet-sized ass you sleep next to every night in the house the American taxpayers be paying for.
Cause believe me, the last thing this country needs is a third-generation son of that worthless Kenyan motherfucker that sighed you.
Huh!
Dreams from your fucking father have produced this country's worst nightmare.
And hopefully, ignorant motherfuckers that voted you in the last go-round will wake up before they get tricked-thucked again.
My name is Effie Sue Washington.
I speaketh the truth, baby.
Peace out.
Once more this week, I've been jabbering with some of our comrades via email and chat and sometimes phone.
And once more, like it does every week, the same old moan comes up.
It's not exactly a question, because I don't think these people really want any answers.
They know the answers already, and they just want to moan about it.
That's what the white right does.
We've spent the past 70 years whining and moaning and complaining and constantly analyzing and reanalyzing the problem, never speaking about the solution, because we all know what the solution is, and we're too chicken shit terrified to use it.
The big bad policeman might hurt us.
Why isn't anything moving?
Why can't I somehow persuade people to come here and help?
Why isn't more happening?
Why isn't Harold making it happen with those magic beans we all know he has in his pocket but which he refuses to bring out?
Why is Harold not waving his magic wand and fast-forwarding the tape to the good part?
I might add that most of these moans come from people who are sitting in suburban McMansions or apartments in Wisconsin and Texas and Chicago and Tennessee and Florida, who've never been to the homeland in their lives and who clearly have no intention of ever coming here.
When I refuse to let them off the hook and let them play without paying, when I refuse to let them be part of the magic without putting anything on the table and packing that moving van, When I push homecoming on them personally to the point where it gets unpleasant, then they either do flips like an organ grinder's monkey to change the subject, or else if I won't shut up about it, which I usually don't, they simply go dark on me and I never hear from them again.
That's one of the reasons I don't waste time conducting long exchanges with nothing but email addresses and why I insist on having at least some idea of who the hell I'm talking to.
One of the bad aspects of the internet is that it's way too easy for games players to have their fun and disappear.
But, okay, let's have another go at explaining this, since we all know that to articulate a problem is the same as to solve it, right?
Well, no, not really, but that's what white people seem to believe, since we spend all of our time articulating the problem and no time at all solving it.
What white males have lost in this country is the necessary strength of will and character to let us go first.
Yes, some of us can still be physically brave, firefighters and police and soldiers and so forth, but our minds have been monkeyed with to the point where we have to have a permission slip from the Jews first, telling us that we can be brave.
Someone once said that war is when you let the government decide who the enemy is, revolution is when you decide for yourself.
That decision is one that white boys can't make anymore.
The necessary files in our souls have been deleted by the Jewish admins, so to speak.
Without that permission slip, white boys appear chicken shit.
I've had people tell me, usually in some elliptical terms, that in essence they think they too can be brave, but they need some kind of permission slip from me, some kind of signal or gesture.
I'm not sure what they're talking about exactly.
I guess maybe I'm supposed to strap a bomb to myself and walk into a synagogue or the state legislature or something.
I honestly don't know what they mean and they won't tell me.
And just for the record, guys, let me run this down for you again.
I do not incite anyone to do anything because the strength to act must come from within you and not because you're so weak-minded as to allow someone else to persuade you.
If you yourself do not have the inner strength...
To decide who the enemy is and act, then you will fail, and we're past the point where failure is an option.
I recommend, quite strongly, that you do not throw your lives away in some pointless, illegal act that does not bring about any actual change.
Real change can only come from direct action, true, but it must also be organized and politically directed action with a comprehensible and achievable goal in mind.
Such as the creation of a white homeland here in North America.
Simply racking up a nigger or beaner body count for its own sake is stupid and serves no purpose.
The white race will not be saved by some lone kook with a gun who hears voices in his head, nor even a lot of lone kooks who hear voices in their heads, as one writer recently tried to claim in a rather strange article.
I still don't think many of us really understand just how much our racial character has deteriorated over the past generations, basically since we spent two world wars slaughtering the very best of our gene pool.
Beginning two centuries ago, tens of thousands of white Americans, normal everyday Americans like us, packed everything they owned into wagons and simply started walking westward into the wilderness full of Indians and wild animals and prairie fires and deserts and blizzards and diseases and starvation.
There was nothing at all waiting for them on the other end.
No job, no home, other than what they could build with their own hands.
No safety net of any kind.
Modern day Americans find this utterly incomprehensible.
They can't imagine doing such a thing.
With a small number of very rare and noble exceptions, I can't get anyone today to do the same thing our ancestors did.
Only this time down interstate highways, with comfortable motel beds along the way, and friends at the other end who can at least...
Partially arrange a reception and employment and accommodation for newcomers to the homeland.
Why not?
What in the name of God is wrong with us?
White people will jump on a bandwagon once it gets rolling.
It's just that none of us are willing to go first.
That's the crucial thing that we've lost.
I call it the alpha gene.
The 5%er gene that used to make one white man in 20 a natural born leader.
One of the ones who would go first.
So.
How do we start the Northwest bandwagon rolling sufficiently for white people to start jumping on it?
Well, I think that despite our incessant jawing on the internet, we all know the answer to that.
Some among us have to go first.
Some among us have to stop waiting for others to go first.
Right now, that's not what's happening.
I just can't find the magic words, the magic beans, to revive that old Arian Alpha gene.
Maybe it's been bred out of us.
I don't know.
This is the challenge that all white nationalist groups face.
Getting to square one.
We have to trot out a finished product.
Not just the websites.
Anybody can do that from his mother's basement.
And many of us do.
But the land, the buildings, the publications, the costumed young people, if that's the route your group is going.
And above all...
The establishment media publicity that proves you're real.
Remember, this is America, where perception is everything, and if it's not on TV, it's not real.
In other words, we somehow have to create the beginnings of a bandwagon that white boys can jump onto, from people none of whom are willing to go first.
It's quite a challenge, and one I have not yet succeeded in overcoming.
The enemy, the government and the FBI and the soulless demon things who run it all, know that they can't allow any of us to get to square one because they know that they are hated and vulnerable.
They know that once any white nationalist group or movement is allowed to get to square one, A bandwagon might start rolling, and the white boys might forget about the need for permission slips, and they might jump onto that bandwagon.
I think that's the rationale for a lot of what they do.
Making sure that nobody ever gets to square one, and making sure that the bandwagon never starts rolling.
Who knows?
Maybe they thought Edgar Steele was getting close to square one.
Yes, I understand the frustration of working year after year with no results and no hope, and yes, I understand that I'm unique, if not freakish, in my ability to do it.
But how do we fix it?
I've told you repeatedly, you can even do it from behind your computer, to some degree, but it involves you, not me, actually doing things.
People ask me time and time again, if the Northwest Front doesn't have any kind of formal membership status, then how exactly do I define a member?
I think a good way would be this.
A member of the Northwest Front is someone who contributes something to the Northwest Republic besides words.
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 98104, 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.
Freedom.
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