May 10, 2012 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
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Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so.
Hush-a-woo, 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 roar for signal, token whistle, up the marching tune.
Warrior pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon.
Switch your eyes 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 throbbing for the blessed warming light.
The waters 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 days were flashing out Rising all the way Greetings from the Northwest Homeland, comrades.
It's May 10, 2012.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
First, a quick word in your shell-like ears, just so you know.
Ten years ago today, I completed my last day of work at my job in Texas.
I went home and began preparing for my own personal homecoming to the Pacific Northwest, where I arrived on May 29, 2002.
I look back on the past ten years I've spent here working to establish a sovereign white nation here in the Pacific Northwest, based on the Fourteen Words, as a homeland for all the Aryan peoples of the Earth, and I will tell you quite frankly that I'm not happy.
I haven't accomplished anywhere near what I should have.
Ten years after my arrival in the homeland, we should have a proper fighting revolutionary party of Northwest independence well underway.
This is not the case.
I'm not happy with this show in particular, although I have to concede it's been more fun than a barrel of monkeys doing it for the past two years.
But I'm not here to have fun.
Nobody is involved in this cause to have fun, or at least they shouldn't be.
That's part of our problem.
Entirely too many people are involved in the Northwest independence movement and white nationalism in general.
Because they want to get something out of it, not put something into it.
I'm not dissatisfied so much with the quality of this show, although that can always stand improvement, but with the results it's been getting, or should I say, not getting.
I find that once again I'm involved in what amounts to a branch of the entertainment industry.
Sometimes I feel like Kermit the Frog doing the Muppet Show.
But the purpose of this show is not to entertain anyone.
It's to get results in the form of your concrete participation in the struggle for the 14 words.
Every time that you tune in to this show, enjoy it, log off, and then tune in again next week and do nothing in between, this show has failed to answer its purpose.
And we are running out of time.
It now appears that the Jews may be planning to launch an unprovoked attack against Iran sometime in October after Benjamin Netanyahu has been re-elected, but before Barack Hussein Obama has been re-elected, which he will be.
And the current Democrat regime is too tied up in the election campaign to do anything that might piss off the Jewish vote in the Jewish lobby, so Netanyahu will have a clear field for his act of madness.
As has already been explained and predicted, not just by me, but by every other responsible statesman, economist, political, and military analyst in the world, this will result in, at the very least, Iran closing the Straits of Hormuz and choking off one-third of the Western world's imported petroleum.
The result will be soaring energy prices, which will prove utterly disastrous and which will complete the devastation of the First World that the Obama Depression has begun.
Here in the United States, gasoline prices will reach a minimum of $12 per gallon, and more likely about $16 or $17.
The effects on the rest of the American economy, which is still utterly dependent on fossil fuel to produce most of its electricity, to transport food to the grocery stores and to generally keep the country functioning, will be catastrophic beyond anything we can comprehend.
It will also result in a massive attack on Israel by Iran's surrogates, Hamas and Hezbollah, if not the Iranian regular army itself.
Using tens of thousands of rockets and missiles that the Iranians have thoughtfully provided to their little friends.
The Western world, mostly America, will be forced to launch two major ground campaigns.
One to invade Iran and try to force the Straits of Hormuz back open to oil tankers and keep it open, and the other to defend Israel from the consequences of its own behavior.
For the past 70 years, right-wingers have been muttering and babbling about the balloon going up.
Well, this is it.
Good, you say.
Remember, worse is better for us, right?
No, it isn't.
You see, this thing I'm talking about is going to happen out here in the real world.
Not in the strange little cyber world that we have inhabited for the past 15 years or so, since just about all of us, except for the Northwest Front, fled onto the internet and now crouch over our computer keyboards, hiding in our bedrooms in our mother's basements, writing interminable, pseudo-intellectual blogs, and stalking Harold Covington through the comments section of any website that dares to mention my work.
Out here in the real world...
Including here in the Northwest, the white nationalist movement is completely unprepared to capitalize on such an event.
When the balloon finally does go up, we will all do precisely nothing, except perhaps a few of us who will go running off into the hills with all our survival gear to hide.
A hiding will not bring about any change, and hiding will not remove the present regime from power.
And hiding will not create a homeland for our people and make sure that our race survives, not just you and your family, whom you've probably had to drag along on your little camping trip in sullen resentment, and who really would rather be going to Six Flags for the weekend, and probably think that's still somehow going to be possible.
We are not ready, and part of the reason for that is my fault, because I have still not yet found the words to somehow make you people act.
To toss your shit into that moving van or U-Haul trailer and get your pale asses up here where the hell you're supposed to be, building a proper revolutionary party of independence and white self-determination here in the Northwest, not Cincinnati or Texas or Florida or Wisconsin or wherever.
A part of my culpability along this line may well be my allowing the program to lapse into pure entertainment.
Like I was a junior Rush Limbaugh or some junior network producer putting out a game show or a soap opera every week looking only for ratings.
Now true, our ratings are getting better.
Last week, for the first time, our website broke 5,000 hits.
But 5,000 people who sit and listen and then log off and tune in next week and do nothing else in the six days between are as useless as tits on a bull.
In the coming weeks, I am going to be reassessing the entire nature and approach of this podcast in light of the increasing probability that we have a little less than six months before the shit finally hits the fan.
Some of you may think that Harold is finally losing it, and I've joined the lunatic fringe, and I've gone all nutty and paranoid and apocalyptic on your ass.
Well, frankly, I hope so.
I hope I am nuts and I am wrong.
A Mad Max world where gangs of half-crazed survivors battle over dwindling stocks of canned food and gasoline may sound fascinating to all you comic book guy types who comprise the online white nationalist movement, but I remember enough of the real thing from decades ago to tell you that nobody in his right mind really wants something like that to happen.
And once the high gas prices cut off your power...
And you can't get online to Stormfront or VNN or Facebook anymore to bitch about things.
And once there's no more beer and cold cuts in your mom's refrigerator upstairs, and once the streets outside really are impassable, and there's no gas or food in the stores either, and winter comes on and all you've got is your white power tats to keep you warm, then all of a sudden Mad Max ain't gonna seem like such a cool dude, purple mohawk or not.
I'm going to have to sit down and carefully think about which way this show needs to go over the summer because the clock is running out.
No more time left.
No more practice swings.
No more do-overs.
We've got to get it right this time.
One idea that has been proposed is that I shorten these podcasts to about half an hour with only one music break and put the show on two or even three times a week.
Instead of trying to entertain with an hour and ten minute show, I keep it short and just try to pound, pound, pound some ideas into white skulls full of mush.
Maybe I would get better results if I kept it short and simple with repetition, repetition, repetition.
I don't know, maybe we'll have to try that.
White Americans have a real problem with attention span, especially when there are no moving electronic images involved.
Radio of any kind, broadcast or internet, has come to be almost a kind of background noise that white brains tune out.
We're so used to having all kinds of electronic noise going on around us all the time.
Our brains are now engineered that way.
From childhood, white kids these days are almost never compelled to sit down and read a block of type for content anymore.
It hurts their heads, quite literally.
I'm astounded that I've had as many people read my novels as have done.
Instead, white people watch movies, DVDs, television, computer screens, YouTube, Game Boys, cell phone, video cams, so forth and so on, and their brains have become physically atrophied and lazy.
White people have trouble processing content in their minds these days, and they need frequent changing stimulation of their cerebral cortexes by electronic images.
It's been suggested to me that a lot of people either aren't downloading Radio Free Northwest at all because it's too long, or else they don't listen to the whole show because they quote-unquote don't have the time, meaning that a 70-minute show is too long for their attention span without any visual stimulation from moving images.
This is reflected in TV commercials.
When I was growing up, it was by no means unusual to have a television ad that ran a full 60 seconds.
By the time I was in my early 20s, the average television ad was only 30 seconds.
And now, more often than not, it's down to 12 or 15 seconds apiece, according to Hulu.com, that times them.
Because white Americans simply can't concentrate, and their minds have to be stimulated with frequent changes of electronic impulse.
This is why so many white men sit on the couch, flipping the remote over and over and over again, stimulating their brains with a constant procession of changing electronic images.
It's a form of addiction just like booze and drugs, in that the brain is responding to artificial stimulus and needs more of it.
True, some radio talk show hosts like Rush Limbaugh or Glenn Beck can keep a show going for three hours, but they also change the electronic stimulus frequently with ads and guest callers and musical breaks like Rush Limbaugh's Paul Shanklin parody songs.
Very seldom will Limbaugh go on an actual monologue that lasts longer than 10 or 12 minutes.
This is what I've tried to do on here with the panel discussions and the music breaks.
Vary the content to keep the pale blobs from getting bored and wandering away.
Serious video time.
I want to talk about a problem that we have in the United States that's getting really bad.
Black people.
We have so many of them and I can't stand them.
You lose them in the dark.
They eat all your goddamn chicken and everything else that's wrong with them.
I think we should have a new plague that gets rid of just black people, because niggers are ridiculous.
But I'm still getting almost nothing by way of results.
Now, I've mentioned that we've been getting about 4,800 hits per week on the site, of whom I assume most download or listen to Radio Free Northwest.
But including heckles and obscenities and goat dancing, which I don't allow onto the comments section, we generally get only about 60 or 70 comments per episode.
Now that's response in mere words, never mind action of the kind that we need.
About a 1.5% response rate, and that's pathetic.
So maybe the podcasts are too long.
I don't know what the problem is or whether it's even fixable at all.
Maybe white people really are irreparably broken in their minds and their spirits, which is what a lot of you seem to want me to accept.
So I'll back off and stop annoying you and stop trying to get you to do things that you don't have the stones to do.
And making you feel bad about yourselves.
Well, if you're not going to do anything to stop what's coming, or to secure the existence of our people in the future for white children, then you damn well should feel bad about yourselves.
But whatever this problem is, people, we have got to get our act together.
Okay, I know this has turned into kind of a rant, but maybe that's what you want from me.
I don't know.
Let me know.
Anyway, let's take another quick trip back into yesteryear.
Into the age of musical innocence.
Now, there was a time when this is the sort of song that people played on the radio and found funny.
I know because I remember it.
This is the Kingston Trio.
These are the times that try men's souls.
In the course of our nation's history, the people of Boston have rallied bravely whenever the rights of men have been threatened.
Today, a new crisis has arisen.
The Metropolitan Transit Authority, better known as the MTA, is attempting to levy a burdensome tax on the population in the form of a subway fare increase.
Citizens, hear me out.
this could happen to you.
Well, let me tell you of the story of a man named Charlie on a tragic and fateful day.
He put ten cents in his pocket, kissed his wife and family, went to ride on the MTA.
Well, did he ever return?
No, he never returned, and his fate is still unlearned.
He may ride forever beneath the streets of Boston.
He's the man who never returned.
Charlie handed in his dime at the Kendall Square station and he changed for Jamaica Plain.
When he got there, the conductor told him one more nickel.
Charlie couldn't get off of that train.
But did he ever return?
No, he never returned.
And his fate is still unlearned.
Poor old Charlie may ride forever beneath the streets of Boston.
He's the man who never returned.
Now all All night long, Charlie rides through the station trying what will become of me.
How can I afford to see my sister in Chelsea or my cousin in Roxbury?
But did he ever return?
No, he never returned, and his fate is still unlearned.
He may ride forever beneath the streets of Boston, he's a man who never returned.
Charlie's wife goes down to the Scully Square station every day at quarter past two.
And through the open window she hands Charlie a sandwich as the train comes rumbling through.
But did he ever return?
No, he never returned.
And his fate is still unlearned.
He may ride forever beneath the streets of Boston.
That he's the man who'll never return Pick it, baby Kinda hurts my fingers *music* Now, you citizens of Boston, don't you think it's a scandal how the people have to pay and pay?
Fight the fair increase, vote for George O 'Brien, get for Charlie of the NTA.
Or else he'll never return, oh, he'll never return, and his fate is still unlearned.
He may ride forever beneath the streets of Boston, he's a man who'll never return.
He's the man who never returns.
He's the man who never returns.
Head to Charlie.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Right, as things have worked out, I think we'll just have an example of what I was speaking about in the first part of the podcast.
For reasons which I will explain, I think it's a good idea for me to go ahead and get this podcast up on the site as early as I can this week, just in case.
And this is going to mean truncating it quite a bit.
I'm going to talk about the J.T. Reddy case in Gilbert, Arizona, which I'm sure needs no retelling to those of you listening to this.
Now, when I first heard about this incident on Thursday, my first reaction was, oh shit, another one of us has run off the rails.
This we need like a hole in the head.
Very quickly after the news broke, there were the usual internet rumors floating around that Reddy had been a confidential FBI informant.
That he and his family were actually murdered by Mexican drug cartels, so forth and so on.
Now, for the first day, I just kind of disregarded all this as our usual reflexive attempts to explain away one of our more glaring character-related episodes.
I admit that I may well have jumped the gun on this one because I have just seen this shit so often before and I admit that I've developed such a jaundiced view over the past 40 years that I'm willing to believe almost anything.
Now, this is one of the worst things that our unwillingness to deal with the issue of our own character has done to us.
When something like this happens, we shouldn't even have to wonder whether or not it was one of our own people acting like a freakazoid.
But there have been simply too many Buford Furrows and Frank Spezaks and other loons running loose in our ranks.
Unfortunately, to someone with any extensive knowledge and experience of the white nationalist movement, the official version of events seemed all too believable.
But then, in a way that reminds me very much of Oklahoma City and 9-11, the little funny things that don't add up started to emerge.
Okay, these things aren't perfectly sourced, but as it happens, I know a few guys down in that part of Arizona whom I consider to be rational and not prone to go overboard on the conspiracy theory.
Not within 20 minutes of the bodies being discovered, the whole street in front of the house was jammed to the gills and blocked off and the scene completely locked down.
With not just cop cars, but FBI, BATFE, ICE, and the effing military, apparently.
Now, why exactly would a small army of federal agents get called out to what is supposedly a local domestic disturbance, although granted a more than usually bloody one?
But still, the fact is that the full might of Washington, D.C. descended on a domestic call in suburban Arizona.
Why?
And this kind of reminds me of the murder of Jeff Hughes when a full RCMP armed response team, including a K-9 unit, responded at 6 o 'clock in the morning to a noise complaint.
Twenty minutes after the first call, that crime scene had wall-to-wall silksuits and army personnel.
Why?
Now let's look at the confidential informant theory.
I happen to know that J.T. Reddy was accused of being an FBI informer in his lifetime, which I simply ignored.
We all get accused of being snitches and undercover agents for the Bureau or the CIA or whoever.
I get accused of it every week.
It's mostly just internet crap and we all just ignore it, but once again, there are some odd things that don't fit.
One of my Arizona contacts, who was an internet whiz, claims to have found something interesting.
I won't get into details because this is still early days yet, and I admit a lot of this stuff flying around is probably bullshit.
But he tells me that according to one set of records he located, Reddy was accused a while back of a very serious felony, and yet when he looked on another set of records where that charge should have been recorded, he found nothing at all.
Odd.
One of the ways you can always spot a snitch is when he or a loved one gets involved in some kind of extremely heavy legal case and it mysteriously goes away.
In fact, a lot of times, that's the way the FBI turns their snitches to begin with.
A JT Reddy was supposed to be this big, racist, white supremacist, anti-immigration leader, right?
So, why did his live-in girlfriend have a Hispanic surname?
Okay, yeah, I know, Hispanic is a cultural thing and not racial, but one of my Arizona guys tells me that while she was white herself, this woman's daughter was definitely Mestiza.
Okay, let's face it.
Movement guys aren't exactly peaches at practicing what we preach, especially when it comes to dipping our wick, as proven by Frank Collin and Wolfgang Schrott and Pavel Rieskntzen, but still, it's odd that this guy, who was supposed to be a so-called white supremacist, would shack up with a woman who'd race-mixed and let her non-white daughter from that relationship hang around the house, like his heart wasn't really in it, so to speak.
Come to think of it, it's kind of odd that the woman and the daughter would hang out with J.T. Reddy.
Maybe they knew that it was all an act.
Also, and I remember this from internet chatter before the shootings, Reddy was apparently trying to become involved with the lefty loon Occupy movement of all people.
That's quite a leap from so-called neo-Nazi to left-wing activist.
Don't know how it was going for him, but do you remember Brian Holland, another NSM informer?
Who was infiltrating and ratting on PETA at the same time he was accepting $8,000 a month as an informer on all us nasty hate-mongers?
Looks like the Bureau likes to get maximum mileage out of their snitches and wants them to try multitasking.
The FBI now belatedly claimed that Reddy was a so-called domestic terrorist who had stolen military weapons in his possession.
Okay, and they didn't know this beforehand?
In the case of this...
Very high-profile quote-unquote neo-Nazi.
They never investigated him before.
This guy who's allegedly so dangerous and he's been running around doing his thing for years and they just kind of never noticed that he was allegedly dealing in stolen military ordnance.
Not very good at your jobs, are you guys?
But most of all, what puzzles me is why we've all of a sudden got all these silk suits flapping in the breeze and going door-to-door up here in the Northwest, claiming that they want to talk to people about J.T. Reddy, people who never met J.T. Reddy outside Facebook, people who have never been to Arizona in their lives, and who could be no conceivable use to any inquiry about a domestic dispute 2,000 miles away.
And since when does the FBI interest itself in domestic violence anyway, however bloody?
Okay, trying to figure out what is actually going on in this society from the internet and the mainstream media is like trying to look at the fish in an aquarium through mud.
But you know what I'm starting to think?
Just from the way the FBI is behaving, I'm starting to think that J.T. Reddy had a secret.
And I think the FBI is going batshit trying to find out who he may have told that secret to.
And I think we can all guess the nature of that secret.
I don't think J.T. Reddy was one of our kooks.
I think he was one of theirs.
Just imagine, suppose it were to come out that J.T. Reddy was working for the FBI when he flipped out and shot his family, and that maybe the weapons and the ammo he used weren't stolen at all, but were provided by the federal government.
Boy, wouldn't that do wonders for Obama's re-election campaign.
Now, you think that's far-fetched?
You think that's paranoid?
Does the name Operation Fast and Furious ring any bells?
I think that sound we're hearing echoing up here in the Northwest is the sound of a few dozen FBISs being covered.
They desperately need to find out who J.T. Reddy may have told his dirty little secret to.
And do some major damage control, like maybe claiming that weapons and ammunition they gave him was stolen from the military and suddenly discovering, gee, this guy was a domestic terrorist.
We were investigating him.
Yes, yes, we were, swear to God.
You know, I have a sneaking suspicion this one's going to run and run.
But like I said, just in case, I'm going to cut this week's episode short and I'm going to get this one up on the site tonight, Monday night.
In case this time tomorrow I'm on a plane to Guantanamo Bay, or maybe a secret CIA prison in Romania.
We are, after all, a third world country.
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.