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March 19, 2015 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
56:32
20150319_rfn
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Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so.
Hush, your vocal, hush and listen, and his cheeks were all aglow.
I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon, for the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, for the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon.
To gather 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 well known to you and me.
One word more for signal, token whistle of 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 pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon Greetings from the Northwest Homeland, comrades.
It's March the 19th, 2015.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
Actually, though, even though it's dated on Thursday the 19th, I'm completing this podcast on Tuesday the 17th, and so this will be this year's St. Patrick's Day music special, wherein I play even more Irish music than usual.
Okay, this is going to be a back-to-basics monologue, mostly for the benefit of our many new listeners through the All-Nationalist Network who haven't heard this before.
We have had another minor incident up here in the Northwest with the FBI sleazing around trying to find the non-existent NVA, although I should state that I'm not completely convinced that this was actually a for-real FBI agent involved.
I've received this report second-hand, and I'm trying to find out some more details, but this character, whoever he was, was acting kind of strange, and it might have been one of Morris Deez's creeps posing as an FBI agent, or some kind of Antifa, or whatever.
That's the first thing about him.
He was apparently alone, and our friends in the silk suits always operate in pairs.
But it has been about a year since we've had any of this mess, and so I guess we're about due.
And we haven't reviewed the protocols for dealing with the secret police on here for a while, so in view of the fact that we do have all these new listeners, I'm going to hit that one again.
Now, we deal with this topic extensively in the 5th edition of the White Book, the Northwest Front Party Manual, which I will be happy to send you on request in book or PDF format, but to be blunt, I'm not convinced that everybody we've sent a copy of the White Book to has actually read it.
Especially the section on how to deal with the secret police agencies, since so few of us actually do what the manual says, and keep their mouths shut, and don't talk to them.
Now, to be fair to this latest comrade, he was approached by this FBI guy, or whoever the hell he was, on his job, so he couldn't really close the door in the man's face or make much of a scene.
He could just request as politely and inconspicuously as possible that the man leave, and eventually he did.
Now, that's another thing that makes me wonder about that particular contact.
The Bureau used to harass people on the job all the time, but it generated so many complaints that for a while they had some kind of internal directive telling them to back off on that, so I don't know what the story is there.
Now, I won't sit here and read you the whole manual verbatim, although I have had people ask me to do just that, so that they will be relieved of the necessity of tackling long blocks of text.
They want it on CD or a thumb drive or something so they can listen to it in their cars.
Well, maybe, although I think it's a bit long for a single CD.
Now, what I'm going to tell you now is based on that section of the White Book, but I'll throw in a few extemporaneous comments of my own, so I'm not just sitting here reading stuff out to you.
Now, the first rule, and the one that we have the most trouble complying with, is simple.
Do not talk to the FBI or any other federal agency.
I know when they knock on your door, sometimes it's almost impossible to resist talking to them out of just sheer curiosity.
Why the hell are they there?
You know you're not doing anything.
What do they want?
Some of us, I think, in a way, think it's almost flattering.
It isn't flattering, it's dangerous.
It is never a good idea to talk to police of any kind, although sometimes I've had them at my door on completely unrelated normal cop matters due to some of the garbage that was going on around me and some of the low-rent places I've lived.
In 2008, when the Secret Service was trying to rattle me in about an anti-Obama blog I was running at the time, they sent in a lone local Astoria cop first to knock on my door.
He told me what it was about, and he told me that he was there to see if I was a right-wing, survivalist, militia, extremist nut with a whole apartment full of guns.
I told him, no, my weapon was a computer, but I pointed out to him that if I was a violent nutcase with an apartment full of guns, the big bad feds just sent him headfirst right into the lion's den to maybe find out the hard way.
And the cop kind of laughed, and he said, yeah, that fact had not escaped his notice.
Then, when the Secret Service came by a couple days later, I asked them if they had a warrant.
They didn't, and I closed the door in their face, which is the way these things should always go.
Same thing last year, when they showed up ostensibly to ask me about that Fruit Loop Glenn Miller.
I have quite a bit to say about Glenn Miller, but not to them.
Full disclosure.
In 2011, at the time of the bionic backpack incident in Spokane, I myself did speak to a couple of Jack Bauer wannabes from the Joint Terrorist Task Force for the purpose of ascertaining if they were following Rachel Maddow's lead and seriously trying to link the Northwest Front to that silliness.
Or whether they were just using it as an excuse to fish.
They were just fishing, so I terminated the interview after 20 minutes or so.
Yes, I know I broke my own rules, but I did so for a reason, and even so, it was not a chance I was happy taking.
I am willing to take that chance because being the closest thing we have to a fearless leader, it's in my job description.
Dealing with these snakes when it has to be done is one of the things you guys pay me the big bucks for.
Now, just because they show up on your doorstep does not mean that you are in imminent danger.
Sometimes activities on the part of federal law enforcement such as visitation, sneaking peeks, which is illegal entry into your home, so forth and so on.
are not actually part of any real investigation, but they're what federal employees call a budget burner.
Once you're on their radar, if nothing else, they're going to use you for that purpose, to burn budget.
What you have to understand about our lords and masters in federal law enforcement, and indeed anyone who works in any federal or state government department, is that in bureaucratic circles, it's all about budget.
That's your empire, your department's cut of the taxpayer pie.
The bigger it is, the more important your boss man is within the pecking order and the more prestige your department has.
Quote-unquote anti-terrorism is now a multi-billion dollar business in America and most countries throughout the world.
There are agencies employing tens of thousands of people who want to make sure that flood of wealth and power keeps on flowing into their pockets.
And if there are no terrorists to stop with all those billions of dollars, if someone in the regime ever realizes that they are wasting immense amounts of time and money every year on what is, at the present time, little more than wild paranoia, then obviously that can't be allowed lest the flow of dollars and goodies slow down to a trickle.
Burn this into your brain, guys.
Without terrorists, there cannot be anti-terrorists.
You now have the explanation for so much that has been going on over the past generation.
It is to everyone's benefit that terrorists be occasionally run to earth and caught and put on display by the various agencies, except, of course, for the poor dumb bastards who are framed.
And they don't count since they're nobodies.
A poo from the quickie mart or some dumb old white boy who is too stupid to realize that Barack Hussein Obama is the one, bow down and apply his lips in the prescribed manner.
A lot of what the FBI and BATFE and DHS and Secret Service and NSA and CIA do is make work, designed solely to spend money and justify their existence.
Even better, to justify their existence at the expense of all those other agencies in the federal alphabet soup.
Above all, they need to justify their immense budgets to the bean counters back in Washington, D.C. Whoever gets the big budget has to spend that money or it looks bad.
Now, if you're thrifty and you actually save the government money by bringing in your department under budget, then what they'll do is cut your allocation for the next fiscal year.
And that's no way for an FBI career man to build an empire.
Now, some years ago, a former FBI agent published his memoirs, and he described how, on a slow day, his SAIC, special agent in charge, would walk through the office yelling at people, Why aren't you people out in the field catching bad guys?
Come on, boys and girls, we still got $200,000 worth of budget this office has to burn before July the 1st.
Hit the road, burn some rubber, stay in some motels, and let me see some expense vouchers.
This, essentially, was what happened to Randy Weaver in 1992.
The ATF spent a lot of money and effort trying to flip Randy as an informant against the Aryan nations.
Rather than taking no for an answer, some special agent got pissed off at the stroppy white boy who wouldn't do as he was told by his betters and started harassing Randy trying to coerce him into ratting.
This included such monkey shines as rigging up fiber-octic cameras in the trees around Weaver's cabin to spy on him and his daughter Sarah, and framing Weaver on a sawed-off shotgun charge to bring him into the system, as the saying goes, and get a legal handle on him, which the feds now admit that they did, which is rare for them.
All the while, this special agent charge was spending budget money on Randy Weaver and building up a file with no court case and no conviction.
And finally, he was told by Washington that he had spent too much money and he damn well better come up with a conviction for something, which led to the attack on the Weaver's home and the murder of his wife and son.
Sam and Vicki Weaver died for some ATF agent's bottom line.
Federal agents spend a large part of their time and budget attempting to build up networks of potential informants.
Retired FBI agent Bud Rumor wrote in his memoirs that, quote, an agent is only as good as his informants, and this official attitude hasn't changed.
The jewels in an FBI man's crown are his string of snitches.
I recently read another book by a former FBI agent named Linda Vecchio.
In which he tried to explain away some of the skeletons in his own closet, and I may get into that on who guards the Guardians of the future.
Suffice it to say, he is to the Italians what John Connolly was to the Irish mob.
Anyway, DeVecchio stated that in his day, which was in the early 2000s, every FBI field agent was required by regulations to maintain at least one dozen CIs, as they're called.
That's 12 snitches for every FBI agent.
When they knock on your door, if you're not actually involved in any criminal activity, which most of us aren't, most likely they are trying to develop you as an informer.
They begin this process by finding people who will talk to them at all about anything.
Sports, weather, politics, doesn't matter, because that leads to other stuff.
When the secret police show up at your door for the first time, they're scoping you out as a potential snitch.
Simply by asking you a few innocuous questions about nothing in particular and feeling your vibes.
Your answers to those questions are not so important in themselves as the fact that you answer them at all.
And if you do, the first time they leave, they will mark you down in their little notebook and in their files as a potential source.
As someone who will talk to them.
And that's what you don't want.
Because once you establish that you will talk to them about anything, they're going to keep...
Coming back, looking for more and more information on more and more people.
They especially love to locate smart-ass right-winger types who want to show off how clever they are and how much they know about the Constitution and the law and who will run their mouths to prove that point, which of course they aren't.
Smart, that is.
In the first place, the Constitution is irrelevant, because for the past several years, but especially since November the 20th, 2014, we have been living in a third-world dictatorship, where the dictator rules by decree without even the pretense anymore of consulting with the people's elected representatives.
Congress might as well be a bunch of potted plants for all Obamacare's, and there is no accountability of any kind.
Now, for that matter, the United States Constitution has been irrelevant since 1861, when Abraham Lincoln, the first imperial president, called for 100,000 troops to use armed force against other Americans to force them to obey him.
Now, in the second place, among other things, federal agents are trained intelligence analysts.
As long as the noise is coming out of your mouth...
They will find some way to extract information from it, and they will use that information to destroy human lives, including your own.
When federal agents come to your door and say that they want to ask you a few questions, the very first words out of your mouth must be, Do you have a warrant?
If they try to bluster or BS you off that subject, repeat the question, Do you have a warrant?
Do not allow them to evade that question.
Say nothing else until they answer the question, and above all, do not let them in voluntarily.
Not to go to the bathroom, or get a drink of water, or use the phone, or anything like that, because once they're inside, they will find some way to wander all over your home, sneaking and peeking, and maybe finding in plain sight strange objects and substances which were not there until they brought them into the house in their pockets.
If the agents do have a warrant, most likely they won't be knocking on the door anyway.
They'll be kicking it in around dawn, screaming threats at you and throwing you to the floor, and sticking automatic weapons in your back, or more likely they'll be hiding behind the local police SWAT team while they do it.
If they don't have a warrant, then you simply say, come back when you get one, and immediately close the door.
That's important.
Vitally important.
Close the door.
Do not stand there with it open waiting for them to go away.
They won't go away.
They'll try to engage you in further conversation and persuade you to invite them in so that they can sneak and peek.
And it will be tempting because you will be curious.
Really curious.
Why the hell are they here?
What do they want?
What are they after?
Are they going to frame me for a crime I didn't commit?
That's natural.
That's human.
You're going to want to maybe hear what they have to say to try and figure out what they're doing.
Don't fall into that trap.
Like I say, I did it once.
Hey, I'm fearless leader.
I'm supposed to be up for that.
It's dangerous for me and it's dangerous for you.
Don't give them any opportunity to say anything else.
Once you have told them to come back with a warrant, close the door, which is what I do all the time except for that one time I mentioned.
Now, if they force their way into your home without a warrant, which they can now legally do under the Patriot Act and the Military Commissions Act of 2006, then is when the five words kick in.
I have nothing to say.
Do not try to bandy words or debate with them or show them how clever you are about the law and the Constitution.
The FBI and the DHS and whoever know all about the Constitution, they simply choose to ignore it because they can and because they know that there will be no negative consequences for them if they do.
Don't try to tell them that you have rights.
Out here in the real world, you are a racially aware white man, and so, no, you don't.
They may try to verbally provoke you into assaulting them so that they can arrest you and have a charge to hold over your head to get you to cooperate.
Don't fall for it.
Even if they shove you and they shout abuse at you, call your names, whatever.
Answer every question with either I want an attorney or I have nothing to say.
Then when your attorney arrives, you still have nothing to say.
Remember, these people have one purpose only, and that is to do you harm.
Human beings and human lives are the fuel, the fodder, the raw material on which an FBI agent or other federal investigator builds his career.
Don't let him build his or her career on you.
His achievement is measured in years of prison time that other people have to serve, not him.
So he really goes after those years.
He loves to pile them on to anyone he can so that his record shines in Washington and he can maybe get a transfer to the J. Edgar Hoover building so he can hang out in the cubicles and the break rooms all day and fight stupid little intrigues that nobody cares about with his boss and blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.
A federal agent is not your friend.
Never.
Not under any circumstances.
They are not interested in you.
They are not interested in your life or your problems.
They are not interested in you as a person at all.
To them, you and your family are either targets to be destroyed or stepping stones that they can use to build their careers and land that plush job at headquarters in Washington, D.C. or maybe in the Honolulu field office.
When the secret police show up on your doorstep, they are there for one reason only.
To do harm.
Either to you or someone else.
You must never forget this, because if you do, you will pay for it in many, many years of living hell.
All it takes is a few words coming out of your mouth to destroy your life and the lives of countless other people forever.
The only way to avoid that is to make sure that only five words ever come out of your mouth.
I have nothing to say.
Okay, first music break.
I sometimes get people emailing me saying, Hurl, when are you going to quit playing all that pointy-headed, fiddly stuff and Irish-ter music and play some of that good old rock and roll?
Well, I have done in the past.
A lot of Ian Stewart and some other groups.
I actually have some new white rock tracks that some people have sent me, which I haven't listened to yet, but I'll probably play in the future.
But, you know, any two forms of musical art are not necessarily exclusive.
I've played rockabilly on here, like Steve Earle, and I've played Celtic rock like Runrig.
Actually, Irish and Scots music and electronic instruments can be a pretty good fit sometimes.
This is the Irish group The Cores, doing the Celtic rockabilly version of their signature piece, Toss the Feathers.
The Cores
Good evening, comrades.
Tonight, I'm going to discuss Anna Sigmund's Women of the Third Reich.
This is the book that Harold sent me, and the way this is set up, you have a sampling of various women that were influential during the Third Reich.
I thought that I would save this book for the month of March, being that this is Women's History Months.
I have to say that there are some aspects of this book Which can seem rather gossipy, especially when the author deals with Corinne and Emmy Goring and also Magna Goebbels.
It can also seem rather old hat if you've read the Riefenstahl autobiography that came out, I believe, around the year 2000.
But if not, it would be a good intro.
One of the most inspiring stories here is the one of Gertrude Schultz-Klink.
This woman really had a dream resume.
She dropped out of school to help the German war effort during World War I. So anyone who was, for example, if you were in high school during basically the race war in South Africa and you dreamed of dropping out of high school to become, for example, a South African police officer, she actually did something like that.
So then she gets married to her first husband.
He dies rather suddenly of a heart attack.
Then she becomes a regional leader, and she was very involved in women's education and labor service.
And she very much believed in selfless service and high morals in terms of very strict dedication to the cause.
However, she was unconventional enough to divorce her second husband because he felt that she was too involved with the party, and he complained a lot about that.
Now, she was so zealous that she was something of a wet blanket socially, apparently, and a lot of people who weren't quite as in tune with her didn't really care to be around her.
However, she did do quite a bit of writing.
In the early 1940s, she ends up marrying an SS group leader.
Now, in peacetime, she was an advocate of very much an agrarian life for women.
And that was things like animal husbandry, technology, eugenics, and various things having to do with land settlement.
But the war necessitated her to become more aggressive with concern to women's armaments work and possible emergency combat roles.
She suffered after the war.
She was two years in prison, and she was banned from having a profession.
Now, as of the writing of this book in 2000, she remained loyal, wrote about women in the Third Reich, and just really remained a very strong advocate.
Now, it's just my hunch that possibly, but I wasn't able to verify this, perhaps she even met Savitri Devai at one point.
A close second is Henriette.
Now, she was the daughter of the official Reich photographer, and she met Hitler at the age of eight.
He really oversaw her mental, cultural, and physical education.
When she became old enough to marry, she married the head of the Hitler Youth, a man by the name of Waldar von Schreck.
You may remember him from Triumph of the Will.
Now, both Henriette and her husband were very much concerned with cultural and intellectual development of German youth, which Henriette felt was lacking in the H.J. She felt that was too heavily into physical development.
The couple did tend to clash with Himmler.
Who was really more radical in certain respects than either of the Schraks?
Eventually, they were assigned to oversee the cultural life in Vienna.
Now, the thing about Vienna was that Vienna, like much of Austria, was initially fond of Hitler, but as Hitler pointed out, Vienna is a mix of various nationalities, and it was hard for National Socialism to get a true foothold there.
After the war, due to all the strain and everything that happened, Baldar would renounce National Socialism, but Henriette lived to an old age, and she always remembered those 12 years with a great fondness.
She would write books to that effect and speak out even into her old age.
Now, Henriette was very much at the pinnacle of social life during the National Socialist era, and she got to know both Eva Braun and Geely, Hitler's niece.
As an adolescent, Henriette felt rather sorry for Geely, but she actively disliked Eva.
On one level, Eva was not intellectual enough for Henriette.
And honestly, though, it also seems that neither was Gigli.
Now, the author suggests that Henriette may have been jealous because of a useful fixation on Hitler.
Now, the other thing is that in this book, much is made of Gigli.
And there's a lot of speculation about Geely.
For example, if you turn on the History Channel, they're often going on about her.
Now, the most that this author can prove, and remember this author is rather gossipy, is that Hitler was Geely's guardian.
Now, at 19, Geely wanted to marry Hitler's chauffeur, Emile Maurice.
Maurice was always very close to Hitler during his entire career and was even imprisoned with him.
And Hitler liked Maurice well enough to hire him.
What Hitler did is he told Emil and Geely to wait for a couple of years because at the time Geely was only 19. This at first seems fairly reasonable.
Gigli would finish school and then get married, but time went on and Hitler just kept stalling.
And eventually the engagement was broken off and Gigli would get engaged to someone else, but she could not assert her independence.
And eventually she got to a point where...
Apparently, she was having a lot of doubts.
She wanted to be a singer, but she wasn't sure she could be.
And then she does something very inexplicable.
She commits suicide.
And this is looked at as very odd, and it is hard to understand.
She was at the verge, as I had said, of starting a singing career.
And it just really makes no sense.
But you have to understand that this was not rare at the time.
In fact, it almost seems oddly fashionable.
If you read this book, you'll find out that Eva herself had made two half-hearted attempts at suicide, and both attempts in her case were to get the attention of Hitler, which she felt was lacking.
These types of attempts or stunts or sometimes successful attempts were not limited to women.
Actually Baldar's brother had also made a successful suicide attempt.
Of course we have also the case of Unity Mitford.
Unity was an English lady, but she had shot herself when war was declared.
So this seems to have been something of an epidemic in that era.
This author, despite her desire to find scandal, has to admit when it comes to Eva Braun that even though she was an individual with an interesting life, the author actually states that she was a rather ordinary person.
And yes, there were many false diaries written about her.
But these are really crazy stories, and they're so disjointed that they're easily fake.
In addition to these false diaries, there are also a lot of escape stories written about Eva and Adolf.
Here's the reason that I don't believe or promote these stories, especially in the ones having to do with them escaping to Argentina or Antarctica or perhaps the moon, depending on which story you believe.
My first reason is quite zen.
It is 2015 right now.
So, if there is some sort of a Goddard Dam machine, as was portrayed in Iron Sky, that is coming to liberate the Earth, my question is, well, where is it?
So, first of all, there is either no such thing, or there is such a thing, but we've been abandoned, which, given the state of the movement currently, would be understandable.
However, this is still very far-fetched.
Of course, there were some individuals and families that fled to Argentina or South America.
But with only enough means to help themselves.
So that's my view on that.
Because really, if I believed in anything more grandiose than that, I would be back to those two options.
Getting back to the book itself, because this book is a series of profiles, it may feel rather disjointed, but I give the author credit because she admits to any and all ambiguities with Grace, admitting that she doesn't know everything.
So, I hope you enjoyed this review.
Have a good evening and hail victory, comrades.
We're about to die, 18 wheels are rolling.
We're about to die, 18 wheels are rolling.
Greetings, comrades.
This is the trucker coming at you.
I'm trying a new little recording USB stick that I just picked up.
So, if this works out, I'll keep using it because my cell phone kept stopping in the middle of our recording and stuff.
So, anyway.
Alright, this is for those of you that might be considering getting into the trucking industry.
These trucks nowadays aren't like the trucks your grandfather used to drive.
You can find it on YouTube.
There was a guy that...
Shot I had somebody sitting back there in the sleeper shooting a video of him going through the gears in his truck and it had three stick shifts.
Not anymore.
Now, they've only got one stick shift or the truck I'm in has a 12-speed auto shift.
Just like your car, you step on the brake, stick it and drive and release the parking brake and hit the gas and go on down the road you go.
Going and getting started and stuff, you may end up having to go with a larger company.
England, CR England, Swift, Central, they all do in-house training and stuff.
It's not the best in the world, but if you have a little bit of trailer backing experience and stuff, that would help immensely.
I've been backing trailers for quite a number of years, different sized ones and stuff, behind my little diggly pickup.
So, it wasn't that much of a leap for me to be backing a 53-foot trailer with a truck.
You'll have to go and put your time in there.
When I went through, back in '99, there in Salt Lake City, you could either finance it, which I think everybody in my class did, except for me, that I paid for my training up front.
It was the time I'm pretty sure it was like $1,400, so it'll probably be a little bit more than that now.
But, yeah, I just gotta make sure that you get the training you need.
Feel comfortable before they go and cut you loose out there because you don't want to be one of those individuals that ends up all over Facebook like Trucker's Daily Fail page or Trucker Fuck Up page.
Because, you know, they post a bunch of videos and a whole bunch of pictures up there of drivers that screwed up and got themselves in really dumbass positions.
So, you don't want to be one of those.
Anyway.
So, my suggestion is go and get your training, do your time in a larger outfit, and while you're doing that, putting your time in there, be searching around for a smaller outfit to drive for, because I like them the best.
The company I drive for now, when I first started, they had 70 trucks.
They're up to 350 now, so they're one of the larger small companies, and you're more of a name than a number.
And it's so nice hitting the home terminal up here in North Dakota, because all the employees there are white.
Not all the drivers, mind you, are white, but all the office staff, the shop staff, everybody, yeah, white, not a problem.
Like that.
I don't have to deal with them, and the non-whites, I mean.
You have to interact with some of the drivers, but that's a brief couple minutes, that's about it.
And so, you need to be able to put in about, give or take, about 600 miles a day behind the wheel on long hauls and be able to plan your trips.
These new trucks now, this one has got the On Guard system on it where it'll go and maintain following distance between you and the vehicle in front of you.
It maintains about 350 feet or so, give or take, behind the vehicle ahead of you once you have the cruise control set.
So you don't have to be taking it off cruise and feathering the gas pedal and trying to maintain distance.
A truck will just come up on a slower-moving vehicle, whether it's going one mile an hour slower than you are, or ten miles an hour.
Within that range it'll back off on the throttle and if need be it'll even apply the brakes to go and slow you up and maintain that cushion in front of you.
So basically all you end up having to do is keep it between the lines and not hit anything alongside you.
So that might be something you might want to consider.
I'm trying to wing this here because this recorder doesn't have a time on it.
Counter clock so I didn't uh forgot to look at the clock to see what time I started talking here.
So anyways I'll just wing it today with this new recorder.
Yeah it's snowy day going across Minnesota with a load going to the northwest.
It's January 11th and overcast but the roads are bare so I can deal with that.
It's a little bit more challenging when the roads are snow covered or ice covered or a combination thereof.
Fortunately, up here at this point in time, there's basically no traffic.
So nice to be away from the big cities, be away from the East Coast with its massive amount of people over there.
Yep.
Northwest is, other than Seattle, Tacoma, Portland, to a lesser extent, Spokane and Boise.
It's a lot more laid back.
I can deal with it a lot better.
And we actually have places to be able to park our trucks up here.
Not all the communities are truck friendly.
I don't have a problem finding any place to park.
We park it at Walmart alongside the curb there on one of their driveways.
They don't care as long as the trailer's out of the way.
I don't have to worry about it getting towed off because of some Asshole manager.
Thank you, Rite Aid, a few years ago for towing my trailer and costing me about $1,200 to get it out of the tow yard.
Anyway, I guess that's not really something you need to know about.
But, of course, then again, if you're going to be out here, you need to plan your trip and know where the hell you're going to park.
Some communities are not very truck friendly.
They want their goodies, but they don't want the trucks that deliver it.
And it would be nice to be able to just not have to go and deal with those communities and all that.
Some areas or the whole damn state, they don't want you to be idling your truck, so they can be 20 below out, and they don't want you to be comfortable.
They don't want the emissions and stuff.
New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, they have like a three to a five minute idle time.
I think California's got about a three to a five minute also.
Down there around Phoenix, that's another area that, yeah, they don't want trucks idling and stuff because, I don't know, noise, pollution, whatever, but the new trucks they've got out now, that they're all California Air Resource Board or CARB compliant.
I don't see why we should have to go and put up with California's regulations.
The majority of our time is spent trucking us outside of California.
If they want clean air, don't let outside trucks in there.
Break my heart half and two.
I'd never have to go to California again.
But, yeah, just have a border.
Warehouses there at the border.
We go them back up to a dock and they offload the freight, put it on a California compliant truck, and they can haul it wherever the hell they want.
Yeah, that'd make me happy.
But anyway, maybe that's what we'll end up having to do there in the homeland.
Keep out all the undesirable beaners and ragheads and all that drivers.
Just have a warehouse there at the border of the homeland where they go on back up on one side.
Keep them fenced off in an area.
Load it onto our cross-docket onto one of our trucks and end up having a whole white trucking fleet to go and deliver the product.
Probably have a...
I'll guarantee you'd have a whole better class of drivers because, yeah, I've seen some really stupid-ass maneuvers pulled by non-whites.
Of course, I've seen some whites do some pretty ignorant things too, but some of that was for lack of training or experience.
But anyway.
Alright comrades, I hope you enjoyed this little segment, and I hope this little recorder works out well for me.
If so, I'll continue to use it.
Alright, this is a trucker signing off from Minnesota.
Hope to see you in the homeland soon, and I hope to have a bunch of your U-Hauls passing me here in the months to come.
Hopefully you don't take too long to...
Make your migration because if you do, you might not be able to get here.
Old bummer might go and pull some crap and make it extremely difficult for you to make your migration if you wait.
Alright, this is Trucker signing off.
We're bound now, but 18 we have a romance.
We're gonna do what they say can't even though.
We've got a long way to go.
Any short time you get there, I'm whisked down, just watch a bandit run.
I'm whisked down, just watch a bandit run.
Now here's some for real Irish rockabilly for you.
This is Steve Earle and Sharon Shannon talking about meeting a girl down there on the Salt Hill Prom in Galway.
Know it well That took us through a long walk today Made a little girl and we'll stop to talk finds off the eye And I ask you, friend, what's a fella to do?
'Cause her hair is black and her eyes are blue.
And I knew right then I'd been taking a whirl Round a saw-tilt drum with a Galway girl Ho!
We're halfway there when the rain came down over the day She asked me up to her flat downtown on a fine soft day.
And I ask your friend, what's a fella do?
Cause her hair was black and her eyes were blue.
I took her hand and I give her a twirl.
And I lost my heart to a going girl When I woke up I was all
alone With a broken heart I took it all And I ask you now, tell me what would you do?
If her hair's black and her eyes are blue.
Cause I travel around, I've been all over this world.
Boys, I ain't never seen nothing like a Galway girl Hey!
*music*
*music*
And now it's time to close out this week's episode of Radio Free Northwest with another installment of our series, Kiss Custodiat Ipsos Custodes, Who Guards the Guardians.
I've talked enough about the FBI for one podcast, I think, so this week, once again, we'll be featuring the raging alcoholic stumble-bums of the United States Secret Service.
Come on down.
There's a man who leads a life of danger.
Everyone he meets, he stays a stranger.
Read every move he makes, another chance he takes.
Odds are he won't live to see tomorrow.
Secret Asian man.
Secret Asian man.
They're giving you a number and taking away your name.
They vacated the shack, and they called the bomb squad, and sent all the usual alerts out, including summoning the Secret Service to the scene.
So far, so good.
And the Secret Service responded.
Two senior agents, who appear to have been either at a cocktail party or in a D.C. bar, we don't know so far because it's like pulling teeth to get any specific meaningful details out of the dictatorship on incidents like this.
Anyway, two Secret Service agents proceeded to hop in their late model government car and go rushing back to the White House.
Both of them apparently drunk as skunks.
They roared up to the White House and proceeded to crash into a security barrier that had been placed around the suspicious package and run over the package.
Fortunately for them, it wasn't a bomb, or if it was, getting smushed by a car didn't detonate it.
Now, that's another thing that seems to have been lost in the shuffle here.
I have been unable to find on the net anywhere where anybody has stated what the suspicious package actually was.
The Washington Metro Police on the scene wanted to arrest both Secret Service agents and make them take field sobriety tests.
But they were backed off by some really senior individual in a very expensive suit who came out of the White House to see what all the ruckus was about.
And no, the name of that individual has not been released either.
In a brief and very vague media statement, some flack for the agency said that the two agents have been reassigned to non-supervisory, non-operational jobs.
The Washington Post reported that one of the agents involved is Mark Connolly, the second in command on President Barack Obama's security detail.
The newspaper identified the other agent as George Ogilvie, a senior supervisor in the Washington field office.
So, these weren't just your ordinary droids with the earwigs and the bulging shoulder holsters.
These were heavy dudes in every sense of the word.
Senior servants of the dictator making drunken fools of themselves in public, and no doubt this incident will be quietly airbrushed out of the picture, and the agents will be reassigned briefly to some desk in a basement, where they are out of the public eye and they can keep a fifth of Jack Daniels in the door to while away those long Washington afternoons before happy hour.
In the last six months, several top Secret Service bureaucrats, including former director Julian Pearson, had been forced out due to revelations of multiple incidents of drunkenness, incompetence, and three-stooges-like chases of loons through the White House, like that guy back in September who made it all the way to the map room on the second floor waving a knife before he was tackled not by a Secret Service man, but by a uniformed FPP officer.
Then there was the trashed Secret Service house in Martha's Vineyard.
And the Secret Service agent found passed out drunk in a White House corridor.
But my favorite is the orgies down in South America back in 2013, where Secret Service agents were getting really drunk on cheap rum, hiring underaged mestizo hookers, and then not paying them for the sex, which caused the hookers to call the local cops on them.
You know, you Secret Service guys really need to get your act together.
I don't know if you get it yet, but your rep is really in the toilet.
You may have Clint Eastwood and Michael Douglas playing you in the movies, but in reality, the movie you're in is Animal House.
Look, I get that seven years of having to protect Barry and his hoe on their endless separate vacations is enough to drive anybody to drink.
But really, guys, the way things are right now, if there is somebody out there who decides he wants to take a crack at Barry, or any other president...
Your deterrent effect is eroded to the point where he may well figure out what the hell, why not go for it?
He'll just be dealing with a bunch of drunks.
And the men guarding Barry will either be puking and hungover, or else they'll be so blotto that they'll shoot themselves in the foot when they try to draw their weapons.
Or in a firefight, you may hit Barry yourselves with a wild, drunken shot.
Now, you know, there's a story that that's what happened to Huey Long back in 1935.
When that Jew, Carl Austin Weiss, attacked him in the Louisiana State Capitol?
Supposedly, Long was actually shot by one of his own bodyguards, who'd been nipping on the jug a bit that day.
Of course, that wasn't Secret Service, that was Louisiana State Police, but still.
With all the clownishness that's been going on in the White House for the past few years, is something like that really too out of the bounds of possibility?
Speaking of clownishness, I'm sorry guys, but I have got to bring this up.
The last Secret Service man who was decorated for heroism.
The Secret Service has a special medal or decoration, kind of their equivalent of the Purple Heart, for any agent who is wounded or killed in the defense of the life of the President of the United States.
Now, my information is that the last time this happened was in the 1990s, when an unnamed Secret Service agent received six stitches in his head because he jumped in front of Bill Clinton just as Hillary was throwing a lamp at him.
Presumably over Monica Lewinsky or some other bimbo eruption.
Now, under the Secret Service rules, this man, who so gallantly took a lamp for his president, was fully entitled to that medal.
And he got it.
But under conditions of strictest secrecy.
Okay, admittedly we're getting into internet buzz here, so this part of it may not be true, but supposedly the ceremony was held in the basement kitchen of the White House, disguised as a birthday party for Chelsea, who was about 17 or so at the time.
All of the off-duty agents, including the director, gathered down there and they wore funny party hats and they carried paper plates with slices of birthday cake.
Now, no doubt once Chelsea went back upstairs, the Secret Service director hastily pinned the medal on the hero's chest and then told him to take it off before anybody saw it.
And then the Secret Service men broke out the bottles of Jack Daniels.
Secret Agent Man.
Secret Agent Man.
They've given you a number.
All they've taken away.
Secret Agent Man.
you This program is brought to you by the Northwest Front, Post Office Box 4856, Seattle, Washington, 98194, or you can go to the party's website at www.northwestfront.org.
This is Harold Covington, and I'll see you next week.
Until then, Sarsha Underban, Freedom.
And here's our final music break for St. Paddy's Day.
Uh, we play a tune now, um, a reel, uh...
Like The Kid on the Mountain, I was saying earlier, The Kid on the Mountain being one of our best-loved double jigs, this is one of our best-loved and oft-played reels.
It's a tune called Farewell to Aaron, and Kevin will take us away with it.
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