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April 13, 2014 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
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This is Harold Covington speaking, and this is another Radio Free Northwest shortcast.
I'm going to talk to you this evening about one of the many bones of contention that have hampered our wee little movement for many years, and for once I don't mean religion.
A somewhat less common but still frequent and annoying obstacle that not only our little slice of life, but that white society as a whole tends to come up against, is good old-fashioned class distinction.
I refer to the dividing line between the dwindling number of white males who work with their hands or their bodies and muscles, and the relatively increasing percentage of those white boys who are employed these days who work with their minds or their educations, usually in cubicles or offices, especially in the fields of business and IT.
IT and computers being almost the only remaining area of Western life or industry, which is still predominantly white and male, due to the fact that, in spite of 50 years of affirmative action and attempts by the dictatorship to undo the laws of nature, us white boys are still the smartest kids on the block, despite how geeky and worm-like squishy we become.
No ordinary white people of the kind that you and I are likely to know are really rich these days unless they're part of the 1%, but to a certain degree, the privilege of going to work wearing a pastel shirt and with a piece of cloth wrapped around your neck, and the privilege of working inside in the air conditioning with an air-conditioned break room and coffee machine, instead of outside in the heat and the cold and the rain without climate control, is now an important sign of affluence or middle-class status in our people's minds.
Never mind the fact that the white male with the shirt and tie may be doing nothing but shuffling papers, quite literally, at minimum wage, like I've done in the past, and the guy who's outside wiring the building or pouring concrete may be making $30 an hour.
Like so much with Americans, it's a matter of perception and status symbols.
Now while I'm at this, I will also address the apparently sensitive issue of tattoos.
Movement-wise, this might be designated as the dichotomy between the pointy heads and the skinheads.
Between those, on the one hand, who take an intellectual racist approach and write high-flown blogs using all kinds of $64 words that are read by 27 people every week and understood by maybe only half of them.
And on the other hand, the shaven-headed or else shaggy and bearded guys with prison records and tattoos who sit around in garages and renter houses swilling beer and listening to Endless Screwdriver and hollering nigger nigger nigger at 1 o 'clock in the morning.
Now, you might not think that this is anywhere near as important as other issues, but I'm starting to see the class thing rear its ugly head again among some of us on both sides of the question, and this needs to be stomped on.
So here goes.
The first thing I need to tell you guys is that I am eminently qualified to speak on this subject, because I've been on both sides of the divide.
I grew up in an upper-middle-class family, and it was always assumed that, like all middle-class white boys in the 70s, I was headed to college.
Indeed, one of the major problems that my family had with what I did later with the old party in the Klan was the fact that I was hanging out with truck drivers and mill hands and factory workers.
You might say I had achieved downward mobility.
It especially pissed my father off, since he'd spent his entire life trying to get out of that strata of existence, and he'd actually married the boss's only daughter from up in the big house to do it.
Although, of course, I didn't get all that when I was a child.
Anyway, my father put the kibosh on college, he threw me out of the house at age 17, and I ended up in basic training at Fort Polk, Louisiana, which was a massive culture shock, believe me.
Given my spotty employment record in my first ten years or so of public national socialist racial activity, all my life I had to turn my hand to a little bit of everything.
I've been a taxi driver, sold encyclopedias door-to-door, I've been a pizza cook, a burger flipper, 50 kinds of warehouse mule or shipping and receiving clerk, I've assistant-managed a bowling alley, I've been a furniture mover, you name it.
On my second-to-last regular job, after I came home, I was in Chehalis, Washington, working in the local Sears and Roebuck warehouse, loading trucks and hauling heavy appliances around on dollies.
And yes, believe it or not, you can move a freezer or a stove on one of those things.
Now for many years before that, when I was blacklisted in Raleigh and Charleston, all I could get was intermittent work through the temp agencies until the blacklist caught up with me.
Or the economic discipline, as the liberals at Salon and Huffington Post call it.
On more than one occasion, I have been the guy sweating like a dog on the loading dock or doing heavy lifting moving office furniture out in the hot southern sun, usually alongside niggers and Mexicans, shooting the dirty and angry looks at the office guys with the degrees from Moo Yu in their pastel shirts and ties who went cruising on by heading for their air-conditioned workstations.
Now, when I was back in North Carolina for a short time in the mid-90s, I was actually a madrugadori for a while.
Shaping up outside a certain community store in Carrboro alongside the illegals at six o 'clock in the morning, waiting for the foreman in their vans and their pickup trucks.
I would usually get taken on for the day so that the bosses would have at least one man who spoke English on the crew.
But at times, as I acquired computer and word processing and other skills needed before I became too old to hire at all, And since I could actually pass agency aptitude tests requiring more brain than muscle, I have also been the guy in the short-sleeved pastel shirt and the tie who sat in the air-conditioned cubicle or in front of the computer at places like First Union, Apria Healthcare, Trilink, and Delta Computers.
If I stayed in an area, and with certain temp agencies long enough, I usually found a niche in various office and admin environments following around after the affirmative action niggers.
Or, in one case, a really stupid Mexican, and cleaning up their messes.
And, of course, I have often been that quintessential middle-aged white male loser caricature, the security guard who is halfway between the two worlds.
Plus, I'm an autodidact, which means self-educated, and I've written 20 books, God knows how many short articles, and now recorded well over 200 podcasts.
No, I'm not bragging.
I am simply pointing out to both my pointy-headed and skin-headed ex-con listeners that I have seen both sides of this issue.
Been there, done that.
This problem is not new among us.
Back in the day, the late Dr. William L. Pierce was notorious as the biggest example of what might be called the pointy heads.
The one thing I heard time and time again during the early years of the National Alliance was that if you didn't have at least two college degrees to hang on your wall, Pierce didn't want to know you.
No working men need apply to the N.A. Now let me make it clear, that is not the case with the Northwest Front and never will be.
It wasn't until the last few years of his life when Pierce discovered skinhead rock music on CD as a fundraising product That he could be persuaded to take an interest, and not until about 2000 or so, when he got hooked up with Billy Roper, that Pierce could be persuaded to deal with proletarian skinheads personally.
Now even so, some of the things that Pierce did in the last few years, like attacking the order in print, left a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths, and yes, I have to say that there was a tinge of pointy-headed class arrogance in that as well.
Look, I think all of you out there who have any personal experience with the movement understand what I'm talking about here.
This class thing has always been around.
Now, frankly, now that we can no longer afford headquarters or clubhouses, whichever you prefer, and we're about 95% internet, middle class prejudice and skittishness is one of the reasons that white nationalist groups have such difficulty persuading those of us who still cling to some middle class status and who own actual homes instead of apartments or trailers to let us use those homes for meetings.
Okay, how can I put this delicately?
It is a simple and unfortunate fact that on the one hand, white people who do still get enough money from somewhere to cling to the middle class ideal and keep their house out of foreclosure, On the other hand...
the said working-class white boys will be unwilling or unable to restrain their working-class behaviors around other people, and they'll cause problems.
On the other hand, Can anyone seriously promise these skittish middle-class people that if allowed onto their property, some tattooed individual will not fire off a gun with the kids around, or start a drunken or stoned argument, or smash windows, or vomit in the rose bushes?
No, none of us can.
Because let's face it, guys, a lot of lower strata white people, living as close to niggers as they have no choice but to do, Have picked up some very unpleasant negroid behaviors.
It used to be that long ago even poor white farmers and working men shared a common culture of courtesy and respect for others with their wealthy and middle class neighbors.
Well, that no longer holds in a society that has become niggerized.
Guys, I get it.
I get both sides.
I can well understand why you blue-collar guys find some of these fading middle-class attitudes to be arrogant and enraging.
You get looked down on every day by niggers and the media and your feminist bitch bosses, and you don't need what are ostensibly our own white nationalist people looking down their noses at you as well.
It would make me mad as hell, too.
On the other hand, I get it that nobody wants to end up with a bunch of drunken, destructive, white niggers in their home or in their car.
I recently heard from a guy who was going to attend a meeting of another group.
To give them due credit, one of the few groups besides ours that has any physical get-togethers at all off the internet these days.
Even if it's only to drink beer and yell nigger.
But he pulled out when he found that he was seriously expected to drive all over three states and meet and pick up guys he had never met or heard of in his life and drive them over hundreds of miles and back again at night.
Now, he pulled out, and to this day, these people are reviling him and insulting him on the Internet.
But he told me, look, Harold...
I'm all for white unity and all that, but I'm sorry.
I'm not going to have a bunch of possibly dysfunctional, criminal, and destructive strangers riding with me in my car all over the Pacific Northwest.
I'm sufficiently familiar with the movement scene to understand how that can end.
Absolutely.
This is one reason why we in the Northwest Front insist on at least some kind of preliminary vetting.
Sometimes including social security number and date of birth, and then a one-on-one meeting with a party reliable to assess the new contact, for attitude and compost mentis, among other things.
This is why we insist on having at least some idea as to who the hell we're talking to.
Okay, now let's talk about prison and prison records.
We have a lot of contact with men and a few women who have been in prison.
An increasingly common life experience for a lot of white folks.
And I sometimes get complaints, Oh, Harold, so-and-so is a middle-class pointy head, and he's looking down his nose at me because I've been in prison.
I also get people who complain that I do the same thing, which usually happens when I find out that I have been lied to about someone's prison record, or when I can't seem to extract any serious information about what happened and why.
Which is when I do start to get curious.
Cons always claim to have been in on gun charges, which is the most honorable fall that you can take under the inmate code.
Although some will admit that it was drugs and send me long, involved explanations about how it really wasn't their fault.
They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, which of course may be perfectly correct.
Usually, I find that when someone lies about their record, it's because A, it involves drugs or theft of some kind, often breaking and entering, and no one, including other cons, trusts a thief, and B, their partners in the incident were niggers or Mexicans or genuine career criminals.
I get that a lot with white women prisoners who try to conceal the fact that they went down with their nigger boyfriends and baby daddies breaking into a Walmart after hours looking for drugs or something like that.
Look, let me just lay the whole prison thing out from my point of view.
Now, you may recall that I am one of the primary bloggers on two especially hideous cases of legal fabrication in our movement's history.
The Edgar Steele case and the Bill White case.
Not to mention 40 years of observing what our so-called criminal justice system does.
Criminal indeed.
I, of all people, know that the police and the district attorneys and the courts just plain lie.
They make things up in order to meet their productivity quotas and pull human bodies into the machine.
The prison industrial complex needs an endless supply of cheap labor.
And it's the job of the courts to keep it coming.
I, of all people, understand that what these courts say happened and what really happened are, more often than not, not what happened at all.
I almost never judge someone unless it is proven beyond all reasonable doubt that someone is, in fact, guilty of something truly horrendous and filthy, someone like Frank Collin or Kevin Alfred Strom.
I put it this way.
One of the 34 men who went out on Daly Plaza in Chicago in 78, and one of my better friends and comrades in the NSPA, was a convicted bank robber, so I don't judge.
That having been said, if you are in this position, you have to understand that depending on how bad what they say happened looks like, it is possible that we will have to take into account the perception on the part of other people.
Including other people in the party as well as the public as to just how bad it is.
Now, remember, in America, perception is everything.
Beyond that, I won't go any further because A, this isn't really a class thing, it's a PR thing, and B, every case has to be judged individually.
And, yeah, I'll get to the tattoos in a bit, but I've been talking for a while here, so time for a music break.
Skinhead or pointyhead?
Tell you what, here's Ian Stewart and Screwdriver.
You lie through the streets with your head held up high For your flag and your country are willing to die Your foremothers fought and
your forefathers died They sighed for a feeling, they fight to be inside White brother, white brother, your strength is your pride White brother, white brother, you spare me behind White brother, white brother, your flag is your voice You scorn the
conscripted, you're fighting through choice Your backdoor unfolded, certain never love To fight for your race is a gift from above Some rules will oppose
you, two men will stay loyal But victory shall be out for the blood and the soil White brother, white brother, your strength is your pride White brother, white brother, you're standing behind White brother, white brother, your flag is your voice You scorn the
conscripted, you're fighting through choice White brother, white brother, your flag is your voice Right White brother, white brother, your flag is your voice You scorn the conscripted, you're fighting through choice Right White
brother, white brother, your flag is your voice You look for your
people, disdainful for the fools The enemies led by the Zionist tombs You fight for your race wish you'll be proud and free And the only reward that you crave is victory White
brother, white brother, your flag is your voice White brother, white brother, your flag is your voice White brother, white brother, your flag is your voice White brother, white brother, your flag is your voice You scorn the conscripted, you're fighting through choice you you you you you
Okay, tattoos.
First off, for those younger listeners who have not yet gotten any, my advice is this.
Do not deface your body with tattoos.
Yes, I know how I describe Kiki McGee in The Brigade.
Kiki McGee was a fictional character.
You are real.
My objections are not artistic or aesthetic.
I know that tattooing is an ancient art form and was practiced by our own primordial ancestors as well as others.
But many young people, mostly boys, but some girls as well who get tattoos, especially of an overt racial design, don't fully realize that these cool decorations can cause all kinds of problems in later life.
First off, there is the very practical objection that a tattoo is a permanent identifying mark in one of the main things listed on any police description or wanted circular.
It is a sad fact that a white man no longer needs to be a criminal to get into trouble with our master's law nowadays.
In a society where black and brown predators roam at large, even a simple trip to the grocery store can turn into an unending nightmare from which you never wake up.
It is terrifying how easily a white man or woman's life can be destroyed in so many different ways by some chance encounter with a munkoid, either through death or maiming as a crime victim or because one refuses to become a passive victim.
A man is forced to defend himself or his family and all of a sudden he finds that he's a wanted criminal.
Don't think it can happen?
Ask George David Lube.
There is also the consideration that someday our kind of politics is going to get really serious, as in revolutionary serious, and you may well find yourself on the run on political or resistance-related charges.
If it ever happens to you, either accidentally or because you chose to resist the agenda, you don't want to end up like Joseph Paul Franklin, who stopped by an emergency room to get a cut treated and had a nurse drop a dime on him when she recognized his tattoos.
Also, what if by the time it gets really serious, you've changed your mind for whatever reason?
You may manage to get yourself a nice little life somehow.
It's still possible if you're lucky.
And then, all of a sudden, the shit hits the fan, and there you are, all covered with racist tattoos that make you look like one of the white insurgency's gunmen, whether you are or not.
How will those racist tats from back when you were a stupid kid help you through a police checkpoint on the way home from work one night?
Most white kids get their skinhead or white power tattoos when they are young and wild, when the possibility that they may ever become 25 or 30 seems impossibly remote.
But trust me, guys, it happens to the best of us.
Someday, the skin scene is going to get old.
You will want to let your hair grow, get a job, get a home, get married, and start taking on adult responsibilities.
Believe me, you will.
None of which will be easy if your arms and shoulders are covered with racially explicit tattoos.
Colorful skulls, viking maidens, and swastikas do not impress potential employers, wives, or in-laws.
Don't carelessly do something now which will make you nineteen years old forever.
Northwest Front-wise, as it states in the fifth edition of the White Book, one of the main things that our people have to do here in the homeland in order to remain functional in society and functional politically is to blend in, and by that I mean blend in, to what remains of the so-called normal muggle population.
Okay, tattoos have become so common that one or two of them these days are hardly even noticed.
I grant you that.
But if you must get these things on your body, do not get swastikas or overt racial graphics.
Among other things, it's bad psychology for both you and others around you.
You are conforming to a media stereotype when you cover yourself with skulls and daggers and SS runes and the like.
You want the people in your community to think of you as a man of respect and character.
Not as Charles Manson.
Now, if you already have them, unless you have enough money to get them laser removed, then they're there for good, and not much we can do about it.
All I suggest is that you try to keep your behavior from reinforcing the stereotype still further.
When the time comes, white people will follow the leadership of a party that they believe to be comprised of committed, quote-unquote, normal people like themselves, although I admit that the definition of what constitutes normal these days is pretty flexible.
The Jews have deliberately socially engineered that very situation to make any revolt by normal people against their power impossible.
The Jews may have destroyed normal, but that doesn't mean that we have to give them a helping hand through our own behavior and appearance.
A white people will not follow the leadership of people who appear to them to be wild-eyed criminals and drunken cannibals, and whether we like it or not, this is the skinhead stereotype which has been created by the media, and this is how large numbers of our own people view us.
We have to play the cards we're dealt and accept the world as it is, which is something we've never been very good at, but we damn well better learn.
We need to start approaching serious political and propaganda questions like this with common sense.
Common sense dictates that we try to put ourselves on a credible basis of communication with our own people.
Okay, I will concede that thanks to Jewish media culture, the tattoo thing isn't quite as much of a psychological obstacle as it was even ten years ago, because it's simply become so common.
But we still need to exercise discretion.
My advice, if you don't have tattoos, don't get them.
If you have a few, don't get any more.
If you have openly racial graphics on your body, try to keep them out of sight if possible.
There is no point in broadcasting the fact that you're different to the world.
We are not trying to shock and amaze the world.
We are trying to change it.
Common sense, people.
I have stated in the past that we are a movement of blood, not faith.
But there's a second corollary to that.
The Northwest Independence Movement must be a movement of blood, not class.
We are not doing what we're doing in order for rich and educated people to preserve their privilege.
We're doing it for white people to preserve their existence.
We're not doing what we're doing for poor people to overthrow capitalism and take all the rich people's stuff like some kind of medieval peasant revolt.
We are doing it to destroy a despicable and inhuman tyranny before it destroys our race.
We are going to need every white man and woman that we can get in this fight, regardless of class, regardless of wealth or social position, regardless of education, regardless of trade or profession.
Okay, let's take a quick excursion into fantasy land and say that all of a sudden we have an NVA situation here in the Northwest that bears some resemblance to the world I portray in my novels.
All you pointy-headed intellectuals who spend your time typing out long, abstruse articles on blogs which will never be read by more than a couple hundred people, all of whom are already racially aware and who know what you have to say already, who the hell do you think this, of course, completely fictional and hypothetical NVA is going to get to pull the triggers and wire up the detonators and finally confront the militarized police and the black body armor, and after that, the U.S. military full of niggers and Mexicans and buttfuckers?
Are you going to do it?
Would you even know how?
To my knowledge, virtually none of you blog warriors have ever even been in the military.
You may know something about guns, but shooting at targets and beer cans on the weekend is so far from real warfare it's absurd.
Some of these blue-collar peasant types that you hold in such contempt will have faced the police and the prison system before and somehow escaped with their courage and their integrity intact.
How about you?
How do you think you'd hold up the first time you're chained to a desk in an interrogation room and some FBI agent starts slapping you in the face and the belly and the kidneys with a phone book?
What will you do?
Show him your master's degree in English lit from the University of Arkansas at Hogwaller?
And all you horny-handed sons of the soil with the beards and the tattoos?
Suppose it does get heavy, and you do run Uncle Slime and his Robocops and his nigger and faggot soldiers off, and you win.
How the hell do you plan on running an entire modern country and keeping it free when most of you can't even spell correctly?
Not your fault.
Not saying that.
Just offering some food for thought.
Just because you can clean the fuel injectors on a Toyota or fix a diesel generator or rewire a building doesn't mean that you can run a complex political and industrial state.
I talked about this some in Freedom's Sons.
You need to reread Section 1. We need each other.
High and low, educated and self-taught, men and women, rich and poor, tattooed and otherwise.
We need to stop looking for these petty, stupid excuses to hate other white people and fight among ourselves, which are, of course, in reality nothing but excuses to back away and continue to half-step and do nothing, because we're terrified of the consequences if we try.
It is going to take all of us to build a new nation on this continent.
A nation where we can secure the existence of our people in the future for white children.
True equality among men is impossible, but the plan that we have for our Northwest American Republic will, I know, attain about as close to equality and true freedom as it is possible for human beings to achieve.
If we will just ever stop...
Bowing our heads and shuffling our feet and muttering stupid little objections to ourselves because we are afraid and we're waiting for someone else to go first.
We need to just get on with it.
So, shut up and get on with it.
The enemy has never been weaker, and if we will stop weakening ourselves, then we white men of the West can have once again what we once had.
What is ours by right?
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