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March 21, 2013 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
01:10:30
20130321_rfn
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Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so.
Hush your woogle, hush and listen, and his cheeks were all aglow.
I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon, for the pikes will ski together by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon.
For the pikes will ski together by the rising of the moon.
Tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, where the gathering is to be.
In the old spot by the river, a rifle known to you and me.
One more roar for signal, token whistle, up the marching tune.
Fire your bike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon.
With your bike upon Greetings
from the Northwest Homeland, comrades.
It's March the 21st, 2013.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
Okay, tell you what, this week we'll put the heavy part of the podcast right up front here.
I got an email from a comrade who is one of the Dutch uncle kind.
Haven't seen him for years.
And I don't even bother to ask him about his own homecoming, because I know damn well he isn't going to do it.
But he does drop 20 bucks in the mail every now and then.
He does have a fairly honorable track record from back in the day.
So I at least do him the courtesy of listening politely to what he has to say.
And to be fair, usually he has something of worth to say.
Now what he was telling me this time was interesting in that it does represent a certain attitude that I come up against on occasion.
Now that attitude is that I am too sarcastic and on occasion downright rude and arrogant to people who refuse to pack their shit and get the hell up here to the Northwest where they're supposed to be.
How there is a hint, sometimes more than a hint, that I am becoming a senile and snappish old man, which I concede may well be the case.
The older you get, certainly the less patience you have for bullshit and for other people's weakness.
You at least begin to understand that available time to get this right is not infinite, even if others don't.
In this latest email describing to me with infinite patience and loving compassion everything I'm doing wrong, it also ascribes to me some process whereby I have corrupted others like Andy Donner and Charles Martell into being rude and crude and nasty to white nationalist ass-sitters as well as myself, so apparently whatever I've got is contagious.
Now this comrade gives me a whole list of ways that I can quote-unquote build a better group by basically comporting myself in the manner of a used car salesman or an infomercial host on TV.
Of course, I don't want to build a better group.
I want to change the world.
And he closes his little homily instructing me in the error of my ways with a phrase that I have heard so often that I sometimes want to start smashing things with a baseball bat when I hear it.
I'm always amazed to learn that, you know, Hurl, you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.
Uh, yup, yup.
Thank you, comrade.
I will remember that if I ever want to catch flies.
Unfortunately, I'm not trying to catch flies at the moment.
I'm trying to change the world.
Okay, look, there's no point in my shouting at this guy.
At least, with age comes some experience.
And I'm finally getting it through my thick skull that sometimes people just don't get it.
Probably because they're incapable of getting it.
It's like trying to run a European 220 volt appliance off an American 180 volt socket.
Not only is the current incompatible, but the plug has three prongs instead of two.
Now I know this guy.
He is not a bad person.
He is a man of his time and place who was raised in the late 20th century in America.
And he simply can't change what he is even if he wants to.
And to give him due credit, he does want to.
He just doesn't know how.
Like I've said before, we have very few on this list who are genuinely bad or truly stupid people.
In fact, we have a lot fewer people in the whole white nationalist movement than you might think who are genuinely bad or stupid people.
But sometimes, as in this case, it becomes clear that after a while, just for whatever reason, the things I'm saying just plain aren't registering.
Now that may be my fault because I'm so rude and mean sometimes and I hurt people's feelings by yelling at them.
Maybe.
Or it may be because white people as a whole have been socially engineered and conditioned to feel rather than to think and because they're simply not capable of thinking anymore and when I shout at them they get their feelings all hurt and they go off in a corner and sulk.
But I have to try.
And as I've said before, I have to use the stick because I don't have any carrot to offer you.
If I could give you jobs and housing and money and all the things that white Americans will actually respond to, then I'd do it.
But I can't.
And so I have to fall back on trying to stimulate whatever residual sense of shame you may have left after a lifetime of political correctness.
And that won't be much.
Now, there's something else I want to say, and that is that to be truthful, and in the interest of fairness and accuracy, We are, in fact, doing significantly better than we were this time last year, and in some respects, better than I let on.
And I need to be honest where optimism is called for, as well as just keep on yelling at you to pull your socks up.
It is a fact that we are getting more white racial migrants coming home to the Pacific Northwest, and our fledgling little communities are, in fact, growing.
Which is one of the reasons I've been playing some comments from new arrivals on the podcasts here for the past couple of weeks.
I know you don't just want to hear me say these things.
You want proof.
You want to hear others say these things.
Okay, fine.
I need to add that the incomers you hear on this show are not only new people coming here to this area.
There are other migrants as well who can't speak in public for job-related or other reasons, and there are some who have offered to speak on here whom I've actually turned down because I don't want to risk them getting jammed up with their employers or with the regime.
Nor are they just coming to the Puget Sound area.
We have had new arrivals all over the homeland recently, in Idaho, Montana, and there's one individual who's just taken the gap from Arizona up to Oregon, whom I will not mention because I don't have his permission.
But whose name you would all recognize if I did mention it.
And I've got great hopes about this guy once he gets fully set up and running in his new Argon home.
There is another possible development coming soon in Oregon, an event which I will not discuss because it hasn't happened yet, and my fingers are still crossed, but if it does come about, it will be a kind of a quiet milestone.
Plus, we have a whole raft of scouting trips lined up for the spring and summer, and while I never really believe it until I see that out-of-state license plate coming over the hill, I have a good feeling about this latest crop of contacts that we're getting.
There's a very distinct improvement in the quality.
And I know for a fact that in a number of cases, there is serious job hunting going on because I've helped some of these people with some of it.
And after many years in the biz of life or whatever you want to call it, you get a feel for when somebody's bullshitting you and when someone has seriously made a careful and intelligent decision to make their future here, where they're supposed to be.
And I'm getting a lot of that good feeling of late.
Guys, this Northwest thing really is starting to finally come together.
It is.
But it's coming together way too late and way too slow.
Our window of opportunity is now visible on the distant horizon like the light from an oncoming train, if you'll forgive my mixed metaphors.
And given our almost complete inability to get our act together, we may well miss it when it flashes by.
That's why I lose my senile temper and start snapping and shouting at you and why others are starting to do so as well.
We see that window of opportunity coming, we're scared we're going to miss it, and we're getting twitchy.
Humble and self-effacing enough for you.
Alright, now quit fucking around, get up off that couch, turn off the computer and start packing that U-Haul so you can get your ass up here to the Northwest where you're supposed to be.
We can't do a damn thing with you out of position.
Okay, another email on a dead serious topic from a guy named Owen who tells me that if I keep on saying nigger, I might get my podcasts and books banned in Canada and the UK, and I need to bow to the political and pragmatic realities of life and stop using forbidden words so I can communicate with normal white people.
Okay, my books are already banned in Canada as well as Northwest Observer, apparently, since some of those were also seized by Canadian customs a while back, but never mind.
It looks like I need to go over the nigger and faggot thing again, which I'm glad to do because this actually is kind of important, and all of you need to get your arms around this, so I do need to review this periodically.
Okay, let me give you the Cliff Notes version first.
The reason I use words like nigger and kike and beaner and faggot is that the dictatorship does not want me to.
Whatever the dictatorship wants white people not to do...
There is a reason for, and for that exact reason, we need to do that thing that they don't want us white boys doing as often as possible.
This isn't quite as simplistic or facile an answer as that sounds.
There's sound reasoning behind this.
If any of you out there have not read George Orwell's historic novel 1984, I recommend in the strongest possible terms that you obtain a copy and do so immediately.
Even though it was written in 1948, it's timeless.
It just explains so very much about the world we live in today.
When you get your copy, I recommend that you start with the appendix at the back of the book, which discusses something called Newspeak.
It's an essay on the use and perversion of language in order to control thought, and it's even more applicable today than it was 65 years ago when it was first written.
Long story short, it's not racial insensitivity or hurting the poor little niggers or faggots' feelings or anything like that which is the regime's concern.
What the liberals want to do is to control our very thoughts by making us so afraid to speak certain words out loud for fear of economic retaliation and, in Europe, legal punishment, or in this country, for fear of psychopathic black violence, that we censor our own selves so effectively that we don't even think such words, or think about the concepts and ideas of racial difference and white superiority that those words convey.
The power elite in Western society doesn't only want us afraid to say nigger, they don't want us to even think nigger, or be able to think it.
The wealthy liberals and the Jews who rule us don't want white people to so much as think any thought that contradicts what we're taught in our politically correct classrooms or in the state-controlled media.
The regime does not want white people to have in their minds words which can even so much as formulate forbidden thoughts, never mind express them.
The long-term goal, as stated in Orwell's 1984, is to make so-called thought crime impossible because we'll lack even the language necessary to formulate forbidden thoughts in our minds.
It is absolutely essential that white people break through this thought control process and recover true freedom of speech and thought.
And that, first and foremost, represents the freedom...
To say nigger and kike and faggot.
Because you see, the liberals and the Jews who rule us are not just vicious and evil, they are wrong.
There is no such thing as an African American.
That's a contradiction in terms.
An American is by definition white.
There is no such thing as a black person.
The term person implies an equality with white people which does not in fact exist in the real world.
They are not people, at least not in the same sense that we are.
They are niggers, and they know it even if we don't.
Why do you think they call themselves nigger all the time?
They don't respect themselves, so why should we respect them?
Then again, we don't respect ourselves, since we won't fight for what we have when we let them spit and piss all over us, so why the hell should anybody respect us?
But that's another story.
There is no such thing as a gay person.
There is nothing gay about filthy and unsanitary perversions that spread loathsome diseases.
The word homosexual is simply a descriptive term for certain unnatural sexual acts.
It does not describe the people who commit these acts.
Those people are faggots, queers, bugger boys, dykes, and other terms I won't use, but which are more colorful and descriptive.
To refer to these people as gay or homosexual, or without any negative or pejorative wording at all, is to imply that they and their perversions are somehow acceptable in civilized society, and they're not.
Homosexual is not something someone is.
It is something that someone chooses to do.
It is a choice, and the people who make such a choice need to be removed from all participation in the society and the political process, because the choice they make is a filthy perversion.
And healthy societies do not tolerate filthy perversions.
It's that damn simple.
Every society in history that has tolerated buggery to any open degree has always collapsed and fallen.
Now do you see what I'm getting at, Owen?
White people and the defenders of Western civilization have got to stop letting the enemy define the parameters of discussion and determine what is and is not acceptable by way of thought and language.
We need to force that power out of their hands and back into ours.
Preferably with a good sharp slap upside the head with a baseball bat.
That good thwacking crack that we are so terrified to administer in any form.
That's another thing.
We need to be free to at least think in those terms, to encompass in our imaginations the concept of liberals and Jews and government being forced to do the things that we want them to do instead of vice versa, of them being compelled to change their behavior and being punished for what they've done in the past.
And I don't mean by being scolded on blogs.
The thought is father to the deed, as the dictator's servants know full well.
If we are free to think disrespectfully of minorities and perverts in the system, and even of the dictator himself, then the chance always exists that the past three generations of Jewish social engineering could fail, and we might actually recover some physical courage, and all of a sudden the system might finally be faced with those couple of thousand white Christopher Dorners they're so terrified of.
Greetings, comrades.
My name is Rod.
I'm migrating from the Soviet Republic of California.
My migration is not all that different than many.
I have had to come to the Pacific Northwest first along with my son while my wife and other children attend to making arrangements back behind the Iron Curtain in California for their eventual joining me here in the Pacific Northwest and our homeland.
This includes the packing of our possessions and the sale of our home.
There really are no valid excuses for white people to remain in non-white occupied regions of the former United States, and I emphasize former United States.
It is important for white people to begin to think that way and to cease holding on to ideas and concepts that have long ago died.
America today is a third world nation, rapidly becoming what Zimbabwe, Mexico, and South Africa are today.
White people should not fool themselves.
Non-whites will not be benevolent rulers and will not be sensitive to white people's interest.
This is the reason years ago the concept of white flight developed.
Whites fled urban areas into the suburbs.
Now, not even the suburbs are safe.
Since 2011, my wife and I have made several scouting trips to the homeland.
We looked at Oregon, Washington State, and even Montana.
We finally settled on Washington State and the Olympia area as it best suits our large family.
My wife and I are proud white parents of five children.
We've homeschooled our children.
Both my wife and I are racially and culturally aware, and we've been very much concerned and aware of the failed American experiment for some time, as should many whites.
While many people were up in arms with Obama's re-election in 2012, we realized that America had reached its final Marxist turn with his election in 2008, and that his re-election would not be in doubt at all.
And soon, what is left of America would be just like California, with its high taxation on working white people to feed, clothe, and care for non-whites, and the force-feeding of multiculturalism, homosexuality, and the end of everything that is white Western civilization.
The Jew has triumphed in what was America.
My worldview is National Socialism.
It is the only real true white nationalism that has ever proven successful in my view.
White people will have to make a choice, and make a choice very, very soon.
White people will have to open their eyes to the realization that simply blogging on pro-white internet sites or tuning in to internet podcasts like this one and sending money to that favorite internet star is not enough.
White people will have to realize that no amount of creature comforts and no amount of attempted blending in with the non-white system will save them.
We have an obligation to our children, and at some point, white people must ask themselves, if not for me, then for them.
To those who continue to say, I can change the system, I say to you, look in the mirror and say that with a straight face.
You're lying to yourself.
The solution for all white people is to do what Germans of Courage did in the former East Germany and just leave and never look back.
Okay, first music break.
Once every year or 18 months or so, I like to showcase the work of an old hippy-dippy country fiddler from back in my old neck of the woods in Chapel Hill and Carver in North Carolina.
He's not too well known outside that area, except for really hardcore old-time folk and ballad fans.
But in my humble opinion, he is just about the best Southern musician living since Doc Watson died.
His name's Mike Cross.
I was just 16, the oldest son, when my mama called to me.
She said, here's $10 and your daddy's watch and the battle of the family.
Now the mule's been sold, I'm feeling old.
We got to find another town.
You better leave and find you a better life before the family drags you down.
And she said, is the whole paint peeling and the rats a squealing?
The well don't dry as they're born.
Our old paint peeling, rats are squealing, there ain't no time to school.
I never wanted you to be like your old man Growing up a fool I never wanted you to be like your old man I took that money and I ran away, but I stopped to see that girl of mine.
I gave a preacher ten dollars just to tie the knot right after we crossed the state line.
I got a job sharing crops for a rich Georgia farmer.
I was young and I was strong.
Tried to find a better life but it won't no time till the kids started coming along.
And they were singing old paint peeling and the rats was killing.
The well gone dry as they bone.
Crops are picked, I'm a feeling it and we've got to be moving on.
The old paint peel and the rats are squeaky.
There ain't no time for school.
I never wanted you to be like your old man, growing up a fool
My years went by going town to town, working hard to keep away the cold My children had to help me bring the crops in, cause I was getting old And then one night I heard my wife calling to my oldest son She
said, here's ten dollars and your daddy's watch, you better leave before the rising sun And she said, it's the whole paint peeling and the rats are squealing And the world's gone dry as it's gone Drop some pig, I'm feeling it, and we got to be moving on My whole paint peeling, the rats are squealing
Growing up a fool Yeah, the old paint me now Yeah, the old paint me now Yeah, the old paint me now Thank you.
Thank you.
Here's a few words from one of our recent migrants, Comrade Donald.
What causes someone to join the Northwest Front and become an active white nationalist?
For me, it was a gradual process with two significant turning points.
Having grown up in the 50s and 60s, I had been exposed to a society with explicit white racial awareness and then racial conflict.
Like most of my generation, I was taught at church and in school that racism was a bad thing, and I simply accepted that that was true.
During my adolescence and young adulthood, I felt a longing for connection with my people and my people's culture.
In my university years, when I was studying engineering and physics, I took a class in the Viking era of medieval history and greatly enjoyed participating in a club that reenacted medieval Viking battles.
During my tour in the army, I was stationed in southern Germany and had an opportunity to see more white culture and history.
I also had a chance to see a small race riot on an army base.
A black soldier had robbed the PX.
The white female cashier who had been robbed went to the door and yelled out to the white soldiers nearby that he had robbed the PX and to stop him, so they chased after him and restrained him.
Some black soldiers nearby saw white men chasing a brother and joined in the fray.
The MPs arrived very quickly and stopped the confrontation.
I was impressed with the instant willingness of the black soldiers to use violence to help one of their own.
My first turning point came many years later, after the Internet was invented.
I read a claim on a white racialist webpage that the white race constituted only about 10% of the global population.
I thought that was ridiculously low and thought I could prove it.
After doing the research, I was shocked to find out that they were right and I was wrong.
I was also dismayed to discover that our numbers were steadily decreasing.
I realized then that the white race was in trouble.
My second turning point came when I was working for my last employer.
I began to notice and connect with other racially aware white people at this company, and I was surprised and encouraged by how many there were.
There was also some pro-white graffiti in one of the men's rooms.
Even one of the supervisors, who was a white man, voiced criticisms of non-white immigrants.
This was at a high-tech company in California that had many Asian employees and a few other non-whites.
The realization that white racial awareness was apparently growing, together with my upcoming financial independence due to retirement, caused me to feel an obligation to do my part to stop the ongoing white genocide.
How could I just sit back and do nothing?
By this time, I was familiar with the history of the white racialist movement and with the major organizations and websites.
Despite the controversy and naysaying regarding Harold Covington's promotion of Richard Butler's Northwest Imperative, I decided to join the Northwest Front.
I retired and moved to Washington State about a month ago and have been getting involved.
I'm very happy to report that all of the Northwest Front people that I have met are folks I would like to have as friends.
Not a freak in the bunch.
Why don't you come home and join us?
Okay, Gretchen the Librarian is up next, and I'm going to do something that I normally wouldn't do.
She's reviewing a book on the Afrikaner people.
And since she has never lived in South Africa, and obviously doesn't speak any Afrikaans, some of her pronunciation is a bit off.
Now, I did live in South Africa and Rhodesia from 1973 until 1976, and I got to the point where I could at least get by in Afrikaans.
It's actually a pretty simple language for English speakers to learn, but when you're trying to pronounce it just from words and letters that you see written in a book in English, it can be confusing.
And so, while I certainly don't mean to be rude, I will interrupt Gretchen's piece here in a couple of places where I think her pronunciation needs a bit of clarification.
It can be a bit tricky.
For example, you usually pronounce the letter G as a sound, kind of like a cat spitting.
Good morning is written G-O-I-E-M-O-R-A.
Sounds like Goimora, but it's actually Goimora.
And Very Good is written B-A-I-E-G-O-E-D, but it's pronounced Baichot, etc., etc., etc.
The End Good evening, comrades.
Today I've decided to discuss a book called The Afrikaners: A Historical Interpretation.
It's by an author by the name of LeMay.
This book goes into the founding of the Cape Town colony all the way till the end of Apartheid.
And it's really talking about the development of Afrikaner culture and a sense of Afrikaner identity.
Now, of course, since this is a history going back all the way from the 1600s to the 90s, it's really a very long story, and so I really need to go over the most important points of it.
At first, the keep started out, as we know it today, started as a project by the Dutch East India Company.
They were interested in a port that would give refreshment to various ships.
Now, at first, this company was very reluctant to start this fort, and really they were concerned that the land really didn't have a lot of promise, and they felt the natives were very unfriendly.
So at first it was somewhat of an idea that never really went anywhere, but eventually they did have some indentured servants that went there.
These were actually a mix, even though they spoke high Dutch, of nationalities such as Scandinavians, Scottish, Germans, French, and even some Portuguese.
And eventually they got even more of a French influence when the Huguenots eventually came to the Cape and became really farmers and colonists.
So from this mix, eventually you had some people that started farming on their own and started to move more into the interior.
And these became the Afrikaners, and specifically some that really were more into farming and lived in the remote areas came to be called the Boers.
Now, these Boers particularly were a very feisty bunch, and eventually you had somebody by the name of Bisundhunt.
That's Biswidenhunt, a passably common Afrikaner name.
And he was ordered to go to court because there was a very minor lawsuit against him, and he did not want to appear in court.
And got together with some of his friends, and there was a standoff.
And this was one of the early sort of Afrikaner rebellions.
Interestingly enough, this same family, apparently, or a family with the same name, was evolved in another standoff similar to it maybe about 100 years later.
So what we see is we see that the Afrikaners are always trying to assert themselves over the English because this company, I guess, was under or involved with British imperialism to some degree.
And so there's always...
This tension.
Now, one of the things that the British did, for example, is they were always bringing in missionaries.
And at one point, there was this Dr. Phillips, and he was trying to enact legislation to make coloreds and blacks equal to whites.
And this is what started the famous war trek, when a lot of the Afrikaners did move more deeply into the interior.
The Afrikaners were always trying to assert their rights to create their own nation in their own land.
The only problem with that, as time went on, was that the Afrikaners would run into migrating Bantu tribes, and this led to certain skirmishes and wars with Zulus.
However, the Afrikaners did have ammunition and some cannons and eventually really asserted themselves against the Zulus in a battle called the Blood River.
Now, eventually, in the 1900s, specifically the mid-1900s, you had something called an active citizen force.
You had a General Maritz that was involved with it, and you also had someone by the name of Herzog that wanted neutrality.
But eventually, because the Afrikaners at this point were really strong in their desire for independence against Britain, you started to have this war that came to be called the Boer War.
In this, a lot of Afrikaners were put into prison, and it really, because it started to become guerrilla warfare, you had reprisals against Afrikaner families, whether they did anything or not.
Eventually the Afrikaners had to give up this struggle and as it turned out there had to be a lot of resettlement and relief given and a lot of rebuilding of homes and that sort of thing.
Now, over the years, these experiences made the Boers increasingly nationalistic and they had a sense of history and of martyrs.
They were always fighting really for their language and identity and always feared being overrun by either the English or the natives.
Eventually, you had the Herzog government, and this was a government that, in contrast to the other Afrikaner movements, and in contrast to, say, the Kruger government, which had come before that in the Transvaal and the Orange Free State, this was an individual that was very much for the unity between the English and the Afrikaners.
That was a fairly moderate government that was going on really from the teens, I guess into the 30s.
You had the Herzog influence, but then you had someone else in power by the name of Milan.
I hear Gretchen is referring to Daniel F. Milan, the first prime minister from the Afrikaner National Party.
He was elected in 1948 and initiated the policy of apartheid.
Milan was very pro-Afrikaner and was more of a militant Afrikaner.
Then, starting in the late 40s, he really saw the rise of this Bruderbo group.
This was a group of Afrikaners that really wanted to turn the society towards a much more Afrikaner-dominated and much less English-dominated.
You have to understand that South Africa was always under the spear of Britain and therefore fought in both world wars on the Allied side.
However, groups like the Brüderbund were much more German-influenced.
They were very much a force eventually in getting the apartheid system to develop.
Another thing that happened was that you got a prime minister in power under the influence of the Bruderbund.
You had a true believer by the name of Wervold.
I hear Gretchen is referring to Prime Minister Hendrik Wervold.
Who broke away from the British Commonwealth in 1961 when the Union of South Africa became the Republic of South Africa.
He was murdered in 1966 by a colored.
And to him, apartheid was not just a political idea as it was for many others, but it was really a religion.
Verveld felt that the idea of separate development was really best for everyone.
And he not only wanted separateness for Afrikaners, but really for everyone.
And he created a Bureau of Native Affairs, which became a bureaucracy unto itself, which just got larger and larger.
Now, the Bureau of Native Affairs gave a lot of autonomy to what became...
The problem with this was that a lot of the blacks in South Africa actually lived in townships which were close to the cities.
The reason for this is that they were attracted to the work in the cities because there was a lot of need for their labor.
So even though they had more education and autonomies in their own homelands, they were very frustrated by the conditions in the townships.
So what I think happened was that you had, in a way, more opportunities for education and a lot of areas for the ANC and other groups to sort of infiltrate and develop, and a lot of frustration in the townships.
And over time, this really became really a terrible cancer, really, for the whole society.
Here was this idealist who in many ways was very dedicated and heroic, but unfortunately, because there was still this connection, it became over time an increase problematic, especially as the population of blacks increased.
Vervold really wanted to stem detribalization and help various natives to develop in their own homelands, but due to the labor situation, this did not work very well.
Eventually, Vervold was assassinated and was replaced by a follower who came from the Oswagabund.
Who was a Christian nationalist.
I hear she's referring to the Asava Brunvach, which in Afrikaans means Ox Wagon Fire Guard, or more simply, the Sentries.
They were Afrikaaner National Socialists who mostly led resistance against the draft in South Africa during World War II.
But who also did some minor sabotage and staged a brief attempt at revolt in Johannesburg in 1941, which resulted in some thousands of them being interned by the British, including future Prime Minister B.J. Forster, who was in office when I was there.
A few of them were still around in the 1970s, and I met some of them, including this one old guy in Buluail.
And was very much against communism, but did not have the charisma or leadership abilities that his predecessor had had.
And things more and more spiraled out of control.
And you had various uprisings that took place in the 60s.
Over time, more and more pressure was brought to bear internationally.
However, during the 60s and 70s, that was somewhat stemmed internally because there were many stories of refugees coming from other areas that had overthrown white rule, and there were enough awful stories that most Afrikaners, at least during the 60s, were content to keep the regime that they had.
For a long time, Afrikaners were reluctant to commit suicide.
But as the 70s progressed, there were more and more sanctions.
And over time, even the Brüderbund, which would seem a very solid group, began to make some concessions to the idea of some degree of power sharing, although they were not at that time given to give up everything but almost everything.
Eventually, as we all remember, Bota came into power, and he was more of a politician, I suppose, than a really inspired leader.
Essentially, he was someone that tended to go with the flow at the end of the day.
And, as you might remember, South Africa was pretty much in a state of emergency from 1985 on.
As you might remember, in the early 90s, Mandela was finally released from prison.
The tendency was, during a South African state of emergency, was that even if they released you, they could take you back to prison.
But eventually, under great international pressure, an election was held that voted the ANC into power.
Now, somewhat after that, of course, we have the development of Orangia, which was not covered in this book, but it does talk about the Terre Blanche movement.
You know, I think the most important part of this book is what we can learn from some of these examples.
One important thing about Verward was that he had no black servants in the official residence.
The other thing is about how the Bruderbund recruited.
They had a narrow focus and recruited members with extreme care.
They were said to be a group of intellect, imagination, narrow intensity, unswavering ambition.
And in this case, and I know this is a different situation than anything we would have, they had all kinds of networks within the National Party, the Dutch Reform Party.
Teachers, public service, armed forces and police.
So they were able to get into every aspect of life and that was how the system evolved.
But the system, really, because of its internal flaws, cannot sustain itself.
At any rate, I found this book to be interesting, and it's not a terribly long book.
It's a reasonable size, and it's a good way to find out sort of outlines of South African history.
So thank you for listening.
Thank you.
And here's some more Mike Cross for you.
This ought to get your toes tapping.
Well, early one day the sun wouldn't shine.
I was walking down the street and I'm feeling too fine.
I saw two old men with a bottle between them.
This is the song I heard them singing.
Lord, preserve us and protect us.
We've been drinking whiskey for breakfast Well I stopped by the steps where they were sitting and I couldn't believe how drunk they were getting.
I said, old man, you've been drinking long.
He said, long enough to start singing this song.
Lord preserve us and protect us.
We've been drinking whiskey for breakfast Well he asked me the bottle said take a little sip and it felt so good I just couldn't quit, so I drank a little more.
Next thing I knew, there were three of us sitting there singing this tune.
Lord, preserve us and protect us.
We've been drinking whiskey for breakfast.
Well, one by one, everybody in the town heard our ruckus and they all came down.
And pretty soon, all the streets were ringing with the sound of the whole town laughing and singing.
Lord, preserve us and protect us.
We've been drinking whiskey for breakfast.
Yes, Lord, preserve us and protect us.
We've been drinking whiskey for breakfast.
Oh, oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh, oh.
Okay, today is Wednesday, March the 20th, and I've just seen in the news media an article to the effect that the head of the Colorado Department of Corrections was shot and killed on his own doorstep last night by a person or persons unknown.
Kind of takes me back to the stirring days of yesteryear in the 1980s when I lived in Ireland, and there would be a similar story like that in the newspapers almost every morning when some bureaucrat or government official or politician or police thug experienced a sudden and unexpected onset of personal accountability for his behavior.
In those days, the IRA had a front group called the Prison Revenge Organization down in the Republic.
And when some of their prisoners were being beaten and abused in Port Leash and Mount Joy, some correctional officers got shot down in the street in Dublin or kneecapped or had the crap beaten out of them with hurley sticks.
There was a big to-do about it, and a few of the usual suspects were arrested, but the Provo prisoners were quietly resegregated, allowed to put their civilian clothes back on, and the beatings and the torture stopped.
Now...
Don't get me wrong.
No, I'm not claiming that this one shooting is the start of the revolution.
It isn't.
Most likely, this was done by some nigger or Mexican Chris Dorner wannabe who didn't appreciate his incarceration experience.
If it was done by a white man, then he was either acting for money or out of some whining, neurotic sense of personal grievance.
Or maybe a more serious one, like he was buttfucked by niggers in some Colorado prison and he's decided to hold the big boss man himself accountable.
Which I suppose might be called political or racial, but if that's the case, it was probably just based on personal grievance, which is all white males can get their arms around anymore.
If the shooter was white, I can damn sure tell you that he wasn't acting out of any larger political or racial motives, because white males don't do that anymore.
It's been bred out of us and socially engineered out of us over the past three generations.
American white males and most white women will commit virtually any crime in the book these days for money.
Or out of personal neurosis of various kinds, but we won't break a sweat on our trigger fingers for anyone other than ourselves.
It's just the way we are.
Who knows who really did it?
We may find out and we may not.
I can tell you with almost 95% certainty that there will be an arrest within a very short time, probably 48 hours or less, because the power structure can't afford for there not to be an arrest.
And when something like this happens, the pressure is really intense on the authorities' muscle men to make an arrest, any arrest, but it has to be immediate.
Actions like this threaten the power structure's credible monopoly of force, one of the legs of the revolutionary tripod I've spoken about in the past.
Most likely, I'm going to guess, the arrestee will be a white male since arresting a black or Mexican former convict who would be able to claim at his trial that he was victimized by wicked evil racism in the prison system would complicate matters and detract from the necessary public spectacle of swift and terrible vengeance for the death of one of the dictator's servants.
If that's the case, then it could be the power structure will decide that there won't be a trial.
If the killer turns out to be unavoidably black or brown, he may simply be burned alive like they burned Christopher Dorner, or shot in the back while trying to escape, something like that.
This doesn't mean that the case will be cleared up, though.
It's just that the power structure cannot allow anyone, black or white or brown, to get the idea that it's possible to resist successfully, to hold one of the dictator's servants personally accountable for his behavior.
On the astoundingly rare occasions when that happens in this country, and it is incredibly rare, there must be immediate and very public vengeance.
It's like a dog who kills a chicken has to be put down no matter how good a dog he is because from that point on he knows it can be done.
And he has to be destroyed before he can spread that knowledge to the other dogs.
In fact, in view of all the possible things that might come out about this prison honcho and what happens in the Colorado prison system, or any prison system, I wouldn't be surprised at all if instead of an arrest, the Colorado cops just produce a burned and blackened or bullet-riddled corpse of whatever race, pour encourager les autres.
Like the Dorner case, this will probably be resolved one way or the other by the time I upload this podcast tonight.
But still, if I might speculate just a bit, and...
Yes, I know the parameters of acceptable speculation in this society are rapidly shrinking, like all the First Amendment, but what the hell, I'm 59 years old, and that means they can't take the first 58 years of my life, and every day I survive out here, that's one more day they can never take away from me, so what the hell.
Let's speculate and hell with it.
I have said that this shooting in Colorado was probably committed either by a white man acting for money...
No doubt something to do with corruption in the multi-billion dollar correctional slave labor empire.
Or else it was done by a white man acting out of personal grievance because of something he or a loved one suffered at the hands of the correctional slave labor empire.
Or else it was committed by a nigger or Mexican Chris Dorner wannabe.
Now the chances that it will turn out to be anything else are negligible.
This is Obama's America after all.
But, suppose, just suppose now, That instead of one confused and disorganized Christopher Dorner wrestling with his personal demons, just suppose that this dictatorship were to be assaulted all at once by a thousand Chris Dorners.
A thousand white Chris Dorners, not acting alone, but in an organized manner, with a specific and stated goal, like, say, securing the existence of our people in a future for white children.
Fascinating concept, huh?
Sounds like you could write a novel about something like that.
Maybe I will one day.
Email from Leonard in Omaha.
Dear Harold, I have now read all of your Northwest novels, and I am absolutely captivated.
But I want to know why you didn't include more about O.C. Oglevy, and will you ever write another novel telling Oglevy's story?
Well, the answer to that is no, Leonard.
Osia Glevy was a character that I first threw into the Hill of the Ravens as a kind of stereotype for the shell-shocked guerrilla fighter who is driven mad by the war and the atrocities committed by the Americans against the white people of the Northwest, so he decides to return the favor.
Every war produces such men on both sides.
Guys like Quantrill and the James Boys in the Civil War, and Simon Gertie and the Harp Brothers during the American Revolution, so forth and so on.
When the time comes here, we'll probably have a few OCO Glovies, all right.
The United States of America has a really major bill to settle up with the white people of this country.
They've tyrannized and despoiled and murdered for the past century, starting with dragging this country into World War I. And when the time comes for the United States to finally pay that bill, it ain't going to be pretty.
But that doesn't mean we need a blow-by-blow account, or that I intend to provide one.
Of course, everybody who read the novels immediately latched on to the Oglevy character, and so he kind of carried over into the other books.
The closest I ever got to telling the Oglevy story was at the beginning of One Section of Freedom's Sons, where I include a passage from a future history book on the War of Independence with a partial excerpt of Oglevy's biography and the fictional rebel song The Boys of Elk River, which is in turn based on the actual Irish rebel song The Boys of Kilmichael.
You may recall that I played that one during my Christmas all-music podcast.
I got all kinds of feedback, with each succeeding novel asking me to tell them more about O.C. Oglevy, so forth and so on, but basically, these are movement comic book guys looking for more bloody revenge fantasies so they can, well...
I won't say what I was going to say at first, but I suspect that a lot of this is so these guys can, shall we say, sit alone in their rooms and imagine all those mighty deeds of vengeance that they themselves will never have the courage to do and get strange inner satisfaction from it, shall we say?
Look, guys, if you want to see an O.C. Oglevy in action or a William Clark Quantrill or a Henry Morgan or a Florian Geyer, then get out from behind the computer and create him in real life.
But there's no point in my describing him in fiction.
Really not that interesting.
Except to the same kind of people who watch slasher films.
And when I was writing these novels, I was trying to produce serious racial and political polemic in fiction, not write a slasher film script.
I explained to you guys once before, not so long ago, that in my novels, I am not trying to tell you what you should do.
I am trying to show you who you should be.
And O.C. Aglevi ain't who you should be.
Okay, another question, and this isn't an email.
This actually has come up in a few of our team meetings here in the area.
I know that I've said that I don't have a crystal ball and that it's impossible to predict how it is going to happen.
But if our window of opportunity is indeed approaching, as I believe it is, then we need to start at least formulating some working hypotheses as to how it might happen so we can start getting ready.
Okay, now, I am not...
Ruling out some big, huge, cataclysmic event that sets everything off.
The balloon going up, as right-wingers have been saying for years.
Now, that may well happen, almost certainly in the form of some huge catastrophe that completely wrecks what's left of the United States economy and makes it impossible any longer to even maintain the pretense that everything is still more or less normal, which they've been able to do as bad as things have been during the past four Obama years.
The fact is there are still government safety nets in place like food stamps and the 99 weeks of unemployment benefits and the abuse of social security disability by the long-term unemployed.
Basically, it's still possible for just about everybody to get some kind of government check with a little effort and a little cheating that will at least pay for a cell phone and a flat-screen TV and basic cable and a roof over your head.
Even if it's just a crummy, double-wide or furnished apartment.
Being unemployed really no longer means ending up under a bridge in the rain.
If you can lower your expectations dramatically and just settle for the basics.
If you can economize and live cheaply.
If you know how to work the system.
If you don't have other problems in play like drug or alcohol addiction or some kind of entanglement with a so-called criminal justice system.
And if you've managed to keep lawyers out of your life in general, anyway, if you can keep all your balls juggling in the air, so to speak, it's possible to survive in Obama's America without being actually homeless.
In fact, some white people are probably doing a little better psychologically and emotionally now that they don't have jobs and don't have those four-figure monthly mortgages to worry about because there's less stress.
I think some people have decided that maybe the niggers have been on to something all these years with a welfare dependency thing.
I mean, after all, if you can sit at home and pop the top and watch American Idol, you know, what else does a good American boy want?
Now, just about all the consumables have gone up.
Food, so forth and so on.
Inflation started long ago, even if the media won't admit it, but it's still possible to fill the refrigerator with beer.
I don't drink anymore, but I do look at the prices in the grocery store.
And here in my area, it's possible to get a 12-pack of cheap domestic brew for about $12 if you shop around a bit.
That's roughly $1 per beer.
And as long as the suds are available and they stay more or less at that price, and the flat-screen TV is hooked up to basic cable, and people aren't actually freezing to death in the winter because of the various government heating utility subsidies, As long as those conditions prevail, then Obama's America is still more or less survivable for most white people.
For now.
That's what's going to have to change, and I think it will change.
That attack on Iran that I was gabbling about all last summer could still happen, you know, and I noticed that it's starting to creep out from behind the curtain and get mentioned again in the media now that Netanyahu's been re-elected in Israel and formed his latest coalition government.
The loss of one-third of the Western world's imported energy for any length of time would, in my opinion, collapse the whole house of cards here.
All of a sudden, the suds would no longer be available in most places because of the expense of the diesel fuel needed to power the beer trucks for delivery, because of the price of all the other food that would skyrocket to the point of unobtainability.
Again, due to the cost of the diesel fuel necessary to deliver to the grocery stores.
Now, and the government would either run out of money to pay for the food stamps and the EBT cards, or else the Jubin Bernanke at the Federal Reserve would print money by the quadrillions of dollars to the point where the EBT cards couldn't buy anything because of the massive inflation this would cause.
Now, once this cataclysmic blow or event occurs, be it Iran or whatever, At the same time, tens of millions of underclass Democrat dependents of all races will find themselves unable to buy their beer and Doritos and gas, will hit $17 a gallon, and the power structure will also find itself unable to pay its mercenaries.
Or at least unable to pay them in any currency that's worth anything more than toilet paper.
Okay, look, I know I've been over all this before on previous podcasts, but let's think about all the implications.
Now, my information is that an FBI agent just out of Quantico's starts at something like $62,000 a year and change, although that's probably gone up a bit since I last heard.
Now, any agent with any seniority is going to be breaking $100,000 a year, a large part of which is disposable income due to all the perks he or she gets, like basically being able to expense almost all his or her meals on one pretext or the other.
Car rentals, basically not paying for any damn thing at all when you're in the field, which can mean half an hour's drive from the office, so forth and so on.
Now, if the agent is married to another agent or government GS grade on a similar level, Then you've got a couple pulling down probably about $200,000, $250,000 a year, depending on their GS grades, with a large part of their day-to-day expenses that can be vouchered off onto the taxpayer.
Full medical and health care insurance that covers the whole family, dirt cheap and free if you stub your toenail in the line of duty.
You see, contrary to what you see on TV, while the FBI may shoot people, like mothers holding babies in their arms in their own doorways, Nobody actually shoots at the FBI anymore, at least not since the 1980s.
Anyway, moral considerations aside, you've got one of the most enviable middle-class lifestyles remaining in American society.
No wonder these people will commit acts of perjury, torture, murder, and depravity to hang on to it.
But, guys, I say this again and think about it.
What happens when the D.C. government can't pay their mercenaries anymore?
Or when that $250,000 per year between the two civil servants won't cover the mortgage on the split-level ranch and the Guatemalan nanny in the private school for their one child?
Or what happens when the perks, like the free on-duty meals and the health insurance, dries up?
And that applies to everybody.
FBI, BATFE, Secret Service, the militarized police, the black body armor, and the military.
I keep telling you, the muscle men are the key here.
They keep the dictatorship in power, and they do it for money.
Not because they believe in truth, justice, and a so-called American way.
They don't believe in that anymore.
Nobody does, because there's nothing left to believe in.
That world doesn't exist anymore, and nobody knows that better than the various gun-toters who every day get up in the morning and go to work and hurt their fellow Americans horribly.
Who commit terrible crimes and who live a lie so that Barry and Michelle Marbell can sleep safely in the White House tonight.
Cops and soldiers keep the dictatorship in power.
Without cops and soldiers, the dictator and his butt buddies in Washington, D.C. wouldn't last a week.
They keep him there for money.
And when the money stops coming or becomes worthless, they won't do it anymore.
Now when I speak of our window of opportunity, that's it.
And now it's time for something grim and gory and bloody.
Let me bum you out.
To you, mister, the bounty hunter said You don't know me, but I know there's a price upon your head I know you're wanted dead or alive, that's what the posters say But I'd never shoot a man at night when he ain't had time to play So I'll give you until sunrise tomorrow,
my friend Before I come to shoot you down and bring your body in I warn you that I do my work quite well at dawn or night.
I've tracked down many a man.
I've taken many a lie.
Father, do not mourn for me.
Mother, do not weep.
Whenever a man's son, that also shall be me guitar solo I spent a long sleepless night with fear upon my breast.
Trying to get ready for my morning duel with death I hid up in a hayloft out on the edge of town And at sunrise the bounty hunter came to shoot me down I fired down the bounty hunter standing in the street He raised his gun and fired a round of shots back up at me He hit my chest and shoulder and my gun flew from my hand Now I'm trapped up in this hayloft,
a wounded unarmed man Mother, do not mourn for me, Mother, do not weep.
Whatever a man saw it, that also shall he read The End The bounty hunter holds his fire and hollers up at me.
Come out and take it like a man, I'll make it quick and clean.
I know my time is running out and there's no way I can stall.
So I reach and grab the pitchfork that's hanging on the wall.
My body arches as I stretch and face the rising sun.
And I feel like a warrior's bow freshly carved and strung.
I launch my body through the air and the pitchfork in my hand stabs the bounty hunter through the chips and pins him to the sand.
Now my muscles start to rust, my thoughts are growing cold while Gabriel and Satan shoot crabs for my soul.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Why don't you have a Grandpa Simpson story corner in every Radio Free Northwest?
Signed, Caitlin from Ohio.
Dear Caitlin.
Well, I'll probably tell some more Grandpa Simpson stories in the future.
Like the time I cut the ferry over to Shelbyville?
I needed a new heel for my shoe.
So, I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they call Shelbyville in those days.
So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time.
I don't think it should be formalized, though.
The thing is, it's true, some of these old stories are funny, but not really.
Like the time Joe Grady's Klan faction stole Virgil Griffin's Cadillac and put it in the crusher?
That sounds funny, but it isn't when you think about it.
The Klan wasn't supposed to play pranks.
They were supposed to defend the white people of the South.
If those guys had to risk jail playing stupid pranks, why not at least play them on niggers?
Which, truthfully, they did.
That same Klan group in Winston-Salem had a whole FBI task force sent down from Washington to investigate niggers getting black snakes thrown on their porches, which sounds very comical until you look around at the world we're living in today and you wonder what things might be like if we'd been able to find some more constructive ways of utilizing our time and resources back then.
Remember, this was the era when we had thousands of members and supporters in our various racial grouplets.
We had a newspaper with a weekly circulation of 300,000 copies.
And we owned buildings and printing presses and businesses, so forth and so on.
Now, where are all those people and where is all that stuff now?
All we seem to have is a tiny number of people tap, tap, tapping on computer keyboards, of whom only about 5,200 in the whole world even bother to visit northwestfront.org every week.
Now, I'll tell you something else, too, and it's something that's hard to quantify for those of us who don't remember the old days and the old ways before the internet, but, oh, Jesus, how can I put this?
We laughed a lot in those days.
We were happy warriors.
There were, at times, what I can only describe as an exaltation about what we were doing.
For me, the high point came on June 25, 1978, when 35 National Socialists stepped out onto Daly Plaza and confronted a crowd estimated at 50,000 Jews and scum as the culminating act of Operation Skokie.
You remember what I said last week about how if you serve this cause without reservation and with a pure heart, as corny as that sounds, You will be sustained?
That was one example.
We really did think we were going to be carrying dead bodies back from that one, but we did it anyway because it was right and we won through.
There is no way I can describe how that feels.
To know that you've just been a part of history and that you've made it through.
But if you've never experienced it, I feel sorry for you.
There was a feeling that came from doing real-world things with real-world people that you just don't get from a computer terminal.
A computer terminal is cold.
It's a machine.
And when you spend your life dealing with a machine, I think it dehumanizes you.
It has to.
The personal computer and the internet has unleashed something into our world.
And I don't just mean our movement world.
I mean everywhere.
But it's released something from within us that is poisonous, vicious.
Sickening and revolting.
The internet brings out things in us that should never see the light of day, like maggots beneath the skin.
I don't really know how to describe this, except that sometimes when I see or read certain things on certain websites, Doesn't make me angry or upset or outraged.
It just makes me deeply sad and depressed.
Or, in some cases, with some individuals, when I read what they post, it literally makes my flesh crawl.
I can't really describe it.
It's like the post has a greasy, nauseating feel to it.
It's like you can smell shit and decay coming from the words on the computer screen.
You guys know, I think almost every one of you out there knows damn well what I mean because you experience this too when dealing with some gooboo sites and internet phenomena and so I don't have to explain it.
Like I said earlier, we laughed a lot in those days.
Nowadays, nobody in the movement laughs much.
The internet has made it all too poisonous and sickening.
We can't escape the Internet.
Like it or not, it's here and it's part of our lives.
I think maybe it's our destiny to struggle not only against the enemy in front of us, but the enemy within.
And that struggle will be defined in how we deal with the Internet.
We will have to win that struggle before we can win the other.
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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