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July 9, 2015 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
59:16
20150709_rfn
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The time has scarce gone round, boys, three hundred years ago.
When rebels on our dairy's walls, their faces dare not show.
When James and all his rebel band came up to Bishop's Gate.
With heart and hand and sword and shield, we force them to retreat.
We'll fight and don't surrender, but come when duty calls.
With heart and hand and sword and shield, we'll guard old Derry's walls.
Greetings from the Northwest Homeland, comrades.
It's July the 9th, 2015.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
As you gathered from the change in our opening theme, since this is the closest RFN show of the month to the glorious 12th of July in Northern Ireland, for the duration of this one show, we're changing sides in our musical selections, and we'll be playing some Ulster Loyalist songs, which I'm sure our British comrades will appreciate.
Okay, looks like this is going to be my week for apologies.
Firstly, rather to my embarrassment, it appears that I owe an apology to an individual named Sam Thielman.
Who is a reporter for the ultra-left-wing Guardian newspaper, the American edition thereof.
No idea if this person lives in this country or in the UK.
In last week's RFN, I stated that the Guardian reporter I exchanged emails with, specifically Mr. Thielman, had gone dark on me, and I never heard from him again, so I assumed that the media blacklist, otherwise known as the Rachel Maddow effect, was still in force, and that was the last I'd hear of him.
Not so.
I had no sooner uploaded that episode of Radio Free Northwest to the websites when literally in the next minute I received an email from one of our guys over in Blighty containing a link to the Guardian article on myself and the Northwest Front, which I have to say was better than one would expect from a publication like the Guardian, whose left-wing bias to the point of bigotry and irrationality is notorious and has been for a couple of generations.
I would also like to say something else.
I was rather bemused by Mr. Thielman's reference to me as a quote-unquote right-wing science fiction writer, but I have to state that for me, as a writer, to be so much as mentioned in the same sentence with the late Robert A. Heinlein, even unfavorably, is an immense honor for which I will always be grateful.
Finally, I want to apologize to five or six of the callers from last Thursday night who were not able to get on to the second Radio Free Northwest call-in show because the last half or so of the audio seems to have vanished.
This is not because we weren't recording the callers, like the first time we tried it.
I was watching the monitor and the little oscillations or whatever were squiggling away during the entire session.
We recorded two hours and one minute total of audio, and after getting rid of all kinds of filler and eliminating all the stuttering and the e's and uhs and the you knows and the breathies and lip smacking and screamed obscenities and whatnot, we should have had maybe 90 minutes of audio remaining, because we had quite a few callers this time.
But apparently, somehow, somewhere during the editing process, Scotty beamed the last half of that episode's audio up to the Enterprise.
I've done this myself a couple of times while editing Radio Free Northwest down through the years.
I use WavePad and not Audacity, but WavePad is as sensitive and high-strung and skittish as a racehorse.
And one slightly misplaced click on the wrong button, and all of a sudden kaboom.
You don't know how or why, but all of a sudden you're looking at flatline and zero footage on the counter.
Unfortunately, thanks to the late Colonel House, I early on discovered the computer amateur's friend.
The Undo button.
And whenever this happened, I was always able to recover what I'd lost.
But I came damn close a couple of times to having to redo a whole show from scratch because I made a slip of the mouse.
I'm not going to get any further into this except to say again that this call-in thing is a learning process, and we will get this right.
It just may take us a few more shows.
Bear with us, comrades.
Okay, now, a few more comments on the call-in show, largely having to do with the suggestion that we release the Skype number publicly on the open blogs and let anybody and everybody call who wants to natter with Harold, including presumably niggers and goat dancers and people who want to tell me all about their latest alien abduction, so forth and so on.
Well, that sounds fine in theory, but...
Here's the thing, just to clear the air and let you folks totally know where I'm coming from on this.
Now first off, to be completely up front with you guys, this call-in show is not a regular thing as yet.
It is at present scheduled for Thursday evening specific time and I will try to do at least two shows per month but I cannot promise you this as a regular feature, at least not at this time.
Right now the call-in show is a bonus and it's not a bonus I can promise you every week.
Now, the reason for that has to do with some things that I've discussed in the party's organizational letters in relation to my personal areas of responsibility and scheduling in available time.
Put simply, although I try to follow as regular a work schedule as I can, in the absence of that Martin Borman type, whom, in my experience, none of us, except Matt Kale, ever seems actually to have found, I'm still having to do most everything myself, and I'm constantly interrupted when quote-unquote something comes up, as something does with great regularity.
I will try to get these call-in shows done as often as possible, but a lot of things are going to quote-unquote come up on Thursdays, just like things are constantly coming up on Mondays and Tuesdays and throwing my RFN production schedule off, and then there's the fact that editing that much audio footage and getting rid of all the stuttering and the lip-smacking and the farting takes at least half a day.
So that's yet more scheduling that can be thrown out of whack by what Hamlet referred to as the slings and arrows of outraged fortune.
But there's something else I want to talk about regarding the call-in show, and it's a topic of conversation I have to approach very carefully.
One of our many minefields in the racially conscious community that no one ever wants to talk about because the subject generates heat rather than light.
But in relation to this Northwest Front call-in show, I have to say something because, number one, we're running out of time to get serious, and we must repeat, must, finally, at long last, get our act together.
And number two, because the recent Guardian article consisted largely of direct quotes from the Radio Free Northwest podcast I did two weeks ago regarding the Night of the Charleston Vespers.
In other words, whereas before, this program was only being quote-unquote monitored by the assorted alphabet soup secret police agencies and by NGOs such as the SPLC and ADL, None of whom will willingly publicize the show or anything I say, lest the pale peasants start getting ideas in their heads.
We are now being monitored by powerful left-wing media who will record, report, and distort out of all recognition anything we say on this program.
Now, this time around, the Guardian article itself wasn't too bad, like I said, allowing for the fact that, well, it's the Guardian.
But, as an example of how media distortion works, The Guardian piece was, in turn, picked up by several other websites and reproduced either with or without permission, sometimes edited almost out of recognition to put an even greater left-wing spin on it.
For example, in the headline in rawstory.com, I became, quote-unquote, the shadowy white supremacist who inspired Dylann Roof.
Now, in the first place, there's nothing shadowy about me.
Cyber-wise, anyway.
I keep jumping up and down and waving a tricolor flag and hollering, Look at me!
Look at me!
Over here!
Over here!
Look!
Northwest!
We got the answer!
Let me tell you all about it!
Hey!
Over here!
In the second place, far from me inspiring Dylan Roof, he specifically stated in his manifesto that he rejected the Northwest migration concept, but the liberal media never lets facts get in the way of the agenda.
Anyway, the fact is that we are now being listened to not just by hostile eavesdroppers who want to silence us, but by malicious gossips who will repeat what they hear in all the wrong places so that we have to start exercising a little more control over what people hear when they tune in to Radio Free Northwest.
This brings me back to The Call-In Show, which, by the way, doesn't have a name yet.
Some of you might want to send in your suggestions.
Okay, how do I put this so that you guys clearly understand what I'm saying here?
And yet, how do I say it in a sufficiently diplomatic way so you won't start sobbing and screaming and cursing at me and setting up hate-herald websites wherein you howl like banshees that yes, yes, it's all true.
Horrible Harold must be a lifelong FBI informant and secret crypto Jew because only a wicked, deep-cover operative of the world conspiracy could possibly say such horrible, wicked, painful things.
I get that a lot, as some of you may remember.
Well, I can't.
If I try to put this diplomatically and prevent the howls and the cackles and the goat dancers whirling like dervishes, I will have to water it down so weak that no one will get what I'm saying and the whole exercise will be pointless.
So, okay, here it is, straight up.
Crazy talk.
We can't have it on our talk show, and if you get on there and you start talking crazy, I'm going to cut you off.
If I genuinely do want to be polite and not hurt your feelings too much, I may let you run on and on for a bit, but I'll cut you out of the final presentation.
If not, I'll just pull the plug on you.
Because from now on, we can't have crazy talk on Radio Free Northwest.
there are hostile people listening now who unlike the ones before will not suppress what we say on here as has been the case in the past but who will republish it quote and misquote and distort it and use our own words in an attempt to do harm We can't have that, and since we can't deal with these media creatures yet in the manner that they should be dealt with, I have to make sure that they get hold of as little as possible that they can use against us.
What this means in the practical sense is that the already limited tolerance we've shown on here for, oh, how can I put this, exotic, Alternative viewpoints, mostly having to do with conspiracy theory, but sometimes just general philosophical and historical digressions.
Anyway, that's going to have to cease.
Look, we all know right-wingers down through the past three generations have been great riders of single-issue hobby horses of various kinds.
Everything from fluoridation to mandatory vaccination to the Bilderbergers to Obama's birth certificate to 9-11 truth, all of which are perfectly legitimate issues of concern, and some of which I agree are of concern to our racial future.
I think there are ways to discuss some of these issues, such as 9-11 and Obama's birth certificate, which passed the appearance of Campos Medes test, and which I certainly would never ban from the show and may well go into myself in depth at some point in the future if it seems that the Republic and the 14 words would benefit from my doing so.
But from now on, we have to bear very much in mind not just what we're saying on this show, but how it looks to other people.
So-called normal people.
And yes, I know, that's a laughable term these days.
Political correctness and dictatorship have killed normal in America.
It no longer exists.
We are quite literally a nation of lunatics with untold millions of adults and children on some kind of prescription medication to keep them tranquilized, sane, and at least minimally functional in society so they don't get carted off to the cackle box.
It sounds absurd that we should care what these American loons think of us, but we have to, and we cannot descend to their level.
We have to make at least some pretense that we're better and saner and more coherent than they are.
Also, we cannot give our enemies ammunition to mock us, or to make us look weird or abnormal or criminally insane.
Yeah, I know, we do a great job of that ourselves.
Thanks for nothing, Craig Cobb and Kevin Alfred Strom.
But not on here.
We have to make sure it's never on here.
Now, I have in fact kept the gooboo and the bad craziness pretty much reined in on this show.
There have been a few times when I strayed, and some of you let me know that you thought I'd gone too far, like when I allowed Lord Lucan to talk about aliens.
The E.T. kind, not the illegal kind.
I didn't mind doing that once.
I think it's a perfectly legitimate topic of conversation and philosophical speculation.
I will say again now what I said then.
I believe in aliens in the sense that I believe it's ridiculous to assume that in a universe this indescribably vast we are the only intelligent sentient beings.
Now, do I believe that there is a colony of aliens living underground in old nuclear missile silos in New Mexico where the CIA has been hiding them since Roswell and using them for telepathic assassination experiments?
Uh, no.
Now, granted, that doesn't mean it might not be true.
We are ruled by the United States government, a criminal regime of at least half-insane people who are so mentally and morally diseased, so narcissistically obsessed with their own power, so devoid of anything remotely resembling a moral compass or a scruple, that they are capable of anything.
If the CIA did catch some live aliens, they're entirely capable of concealing them in underground caverns or facilities and using them to do harm to others and to further the agency's own weird intrigues and bizarre agenda.
The people who rule us are capable of anything, no question.
But are they engaged in this particular kind of wild-at-heart and weird-on-top behavior?
Well, I'd really like to see some honest-to-God evidence.
Guys, do you understand what I'm saying?
Facts of almost any kind don't matter anymore, because everyone pretty much lives in a fantasy world, usually a pretty sick one.
Either his own, or in most cases, in someone else's, due to physical or legal or financial force and coercion.
To paraphrase the Bible, where it says that the righteous must avoid even the appearance of evil, the Northwest Front must avoid even the appearance of nettiness.
You could be completely sane.
Stone cold sober.
And you could have all your facts right, but if it is going to sound nutty to the so-called normal people who listen to the call-in show and cause said muggles to regard the NF as nutty, I'm going to have to cut you out.
Just the way it is, guys.
Right, several days ago I called for Orange Music for the Glorious Twelfth, and I got a genuinely massive response from a lot of comrades, some of whom bothered to list on their submission who the artist was, and some of whom didn't.
I don't know who this is.
For all I know, he may be just some guy from Belfast talking about how orange is the new black his ass.
Music My da was an orangeman, and no better man ever walked upon the 12th.
Fought in the war, my da did, and voted unionist like his da before him.
Every 11th night my ma would be up fussing about the house and getting things ready for the 12th.
Pressing his navy blue suit and trying to get the shine out of the arse of the trousers.
And giving the large number a polish.
It was always the same.
Always.
I remember it since I was just a child.
Then her and my da would get out to Union Jack and they were proud of that flag.
They would wrap orange lilies and Sweet William around it and put it out of the window.
And then my dad would go out into the street to have a wee loop, just to make sure everything was all right.
He was proud of it.
It was the biggest flag in the whole street, and anyway, it showed up the next-door neighbours, the McCrory's, because they had no flag at all.
Tim.
But good neighbours and nice people.
For as long as I can mind, on the 12th morning, my dad would get dressed up in his navy blue suit and go to the house with his sash in a brown paper bag.
And funny enough, he went into the McCrory's and always had a wee drop of the good stuff handy.
And there were the other shirt.
It's funny, but you've never seen any of our shirt with a drop of drink.
But I always seen to it that my dad got a wee drop of whiskey to start him off on his big day.
Then Mrs. McCrory would take a sash out of the bag and put it round his neck and say it was alright for him.
She always done that, as long as I can mind.
Good neighbours.
But that was a special gesture.
Every year during the football season, he never missed a Rangers game.
He was broad-minded, mind you, because he always slapped the other team, but he was a Rangers fan at heart.
Never cursed.
Well, just once.
It was the day that Rangers lost a cup, and mind what he said, and I'm sure that wee sinner forward's ears were red for missing that penalty.
He was a churchgoer too, you know.
Never missed a Sunday.
Took up the collection and handed out the hymn books.
He was a good man.
There's no doubt about it.
Sometimes when they could afford it, they would have a night out, have a meal, and go to the club.
One night they ended up on the Knights of St. Columbus and my da nearly choked when they played the soldier's song.
But he told me afterwards he just stood there to attention and pretended they were playing the Queen.
Now there's loyalty for you.
On the twelfth morning my ma would see my da out of the house and off he would go walking down the street proud as a peacock.
We would all get ready and the whole family would go down to see him walking by with his lodge.
And everybody seemed to know him because he kept waving and nodding his head.
It was his big day, the 12th.
I said it was his big day.
On that walking, that bright sunny day in July, it was the last he was ever to see.
For that day in the field, my dad too bad.
Friends from the lads, they did all they could and tried to save him, but it was no use.
I suppose he went the way he always wanted to go.
We're in the sash on the 12th.
I still have a such move.
I still have a such move.
Good evening, comrades.
Tonight, I'd like to discuss A Walk with Our Ancestors, A Guide to Modern Odinism.
This author, Benjamin Long, introduces Odinism as a family-oriented, folk-oriented religion.
Now, specifically, this author is a Wodanist, but as you can see, he entitles the book A Guide to Modern Odinism.
So you can't always go by the term Odinist or Wodanist or Osatro for that matter.
They're used somewhat interchangeably.
Now, because this author is As a Wodenist, in addition to the nine noble virtues and charges, he's also going to accept David Lane's 88 precepts.
Why would you incorporate these relatively modern precepts into an ancient religion?
And the author says that really because they increase an individual's presentation and are a manifestation of Yegstrel.
The author explains Yegstrel as the connection between all the nine worlds.
And Long really puts a lot of emphasis in this book on magic shamanism as a way of traveling these nine worlds to gain understanding.
Now, the author explains these worlds as going from conscious to unconscious in disposition, and says that as you journey through these worlds, you're going to meet various animal spirits.
He reminds us that this belief in Wodenism is not only polytheistic, but it's also pantheist and animist.
So this notion that everything is alive.
The author describes these nine worlds and encourages the reader to visit them in meditation.
But as you meet these various animal spirits, you're always going to have to remember this principle of a gift for a gift.
Because in that way, you can get these animal spirits to help you.
The other thing that you're encouraged to do is you're encouraged to discover your full Aegea.
And this is often an animal spirit.
Apologia is another term for fetch.
So the most common animal spirit that a person would have is the spirit of the mouse, which is an indication of really a cowardly personality.
Another type of phologia would be either a wolf or a bear.
A wolf is somebody who tends to be a joiner and would probably be someone like a soldier because a wolf is a pack animal.
And a bear would be somebody who tends to be more independent and tends to be second in command.
Now, if you're a very charismatic leader, Then you would tend to have an eagle as a phylogia.
And these individuals are very much connected with Odin.
Now, if your phylogia is a bear or especially a wolf, then you need to be very careful in your shamanist practice because you may start to take on psychologically these animal characteristics.
And realistically, that could lead to a very great dysfunction, obviously, in the world.
There are some people that do not have an animal phylogia.
You could also have an anima or an animus.
The other thing is that if you're really chosen, if you're a warrior, for example, or somebody who is destined for martyrdom, perhaps, then you can actually have a Valkyrie as your phylogia.
And that would be an indication that you're going to be involved in Ragnarok, ultimately, which is a great honor, but obviously also a very fearful thing.
The other thing that can happen is that if you end up getting taken by Freya instead of Odin, Then, according to this author, there's a very strong possibility that you may be participating in the next creation.
So that's also a very exciting possibility.
Now, this author also writes about shamanistic healing practices.
Such as mending a broken soul complex.
Now as far as ritual is concerned, any ritual, whether it's public or private, the real point of the ritual is to confuse time and space so that the world of the gods is closer to our own.
Now after you complete the ritual, then you have to return time and space to normal.
Now, after this point, you can read the Eddas and the Sagas, but you can also discuss current events.
If possible, you can relate these current events to the 88 precepts.
This really emphasizes that the faith is not just some arcane practice.
Now, another practice that you can have is that you can find evolutive PowerPoints.
And this is the way to get in touch with your ancestors.
Now, the author reminds us that both solitary practitioners and public practitioners can have a meaningful practice.
But really, when you have community, then you can have a functioning orthoproxy.
And this author has some criticism for the Azitro Folk Assembly as being really too moderate, and he sees them as the conservative Republicans of Azitro.
Now, personally, I think there is a place for a group like the AFA because they really have a tendency to keep themselves functioning.
And they really stay out of trouble, which means that they tend to endure as a group.
So you can say what you want about them, but I have a certain amount of respect for them.
This author politically tends to favor paleoconservatives, but admits that there really aren't very many of those anymore.
The author tends to see neocons as oligarchs, and this author is very concerned about globalism and a loss of national sovereignty.
After a couple of chapters of commentary on geopolitical issues, the author goes back to the runes and reminds the reader that if you're really interested in the runes, you have to contact Heimdall through prayer and meditation, because while Odin knows the runes, he's really not interested in teaching you runes.
Now, I suppose another possibility might be Frege.
And she'd probably also know about the runes, and maybe you could also get in contact with her.
When the author goes into the Norwegian and Icelandic runepaws, again, talks about that in building a relationship with the gods, again, you always have to think about a gift for a gift, because otherwise the gods and goddesses that you're trying to contact can get annoyed.
Now, when you look at the 88 precepts, you'll also see the 18th precept, which says that life is a purchase, and also the 14th precept that says nothing is more right than the preservation of your race.
You can look at the AFA's Nine Noble Virtues, and you can see kinship over alienation, you can see realism over dogma, and you can see ancestry over universalism.
And so you can really see how the nine noble virtues really dovetail with David Lane's precepts.
The author talks about the preservation of order and the fact that every time there's a creation cycle, the gods and goddesses meet at Idoval and they create order.
And how holy things are literally pure and whole.
And I would say the effect of this book on me...
I've become very excited about meditation, which I confess is something that I've tried in the past.
But I always find it very difficult.
And as a result of reading this book, I really want to find the time to meditate more so I can visit these various worlds and I can come to understand my phologia.
I believe that this book would have the same effect on most any reader.
So I hope you enjoyed my review, and thank you for listening, and hail Victory, Comrades!
We're about to die, 18 wheels are rolling, are we gonna do what they say can't be done?
We've got a long way to go, and it's short time to get there, I'm best bound just like a band and run.
If you come hard on the pedal, some will remind you, break, let it all hang out cause we gotta run the baby.
*music* Thank you.
Greetings, comrades.
This is the trucker coming at you from southern sunny, kind of overcast Florida.
Yeah, I'm in the other corner of the country.
So I figured I'd go in for our new A&N listeners, do another migration 101 trucker style.
Alright, once you've figured out all the stuff you are going to pack up and bring to the homeland.
And you're trying to figure out your route.
Well, it just depends on what part of the country you're in.
Easy way to do it.
The odd-numbered interstates like I-5, I-95, I-75, all those in between that end with an odd number go north and south.
All the ones that end with an even number go east and west.
So, like where I'm at here in Florida, Getting ready to head to the homeland.
I would go and find an odd-numbered interstate, like either I-75 or I-95, and head north until I hit an even-numbered interstate, like I-10.
And I'd run I-10 all the way over to I-25, or I-5, whichever you prefer, and head north on I-25 until I hit I-90.
And that will bring you right into the homeland.
And the even-numbered interstates that run from one coast to the other are I-10, I-40, I-80, and I-90.
All the ones that, if you are heading from east somewhere, east of the Rockies anyway, I would shoot for an even-numbered interstate being I-10, I-40, Now, I-40 also goes all the way to the West Coast, or almost anyway, at least it ends up in California.
But anyway, I-10, I-40, I-70, I-80, and naturally I-90 and I-94 all end up basically running into I-25, and that'll bring you that.
Going north to I-25 into Montana and heading west on I-90 will definitely bring you into the homeland.
So that's route planning, simplified, trucker style.
So hope to see you all out here in the homeland soon, comrades.
Because it's getting ugly out there with all this rainbow crap that they've got going on.
Getting sick and tired of that.
That and they're dissing the Confederate.
Or southern battle flag.
I'm not a southern boy, but I understand their need for patriotism, and I wholly support the Confederate flag.
So anyway, this is Drucker signing off for another short little segment from the road.
Thank you.
Thank you.
You know, we haven't had a good papist plot in, oh God, 300 years.
I kind of miss old Titus Oates.
You know, I think Lord Lucan would really like this one.
Oh No chapels too sad in my eyes.
No nuns and no priests, no rosary beats, and every day's like the 12th of July.
Up a wing or a close, just by Britain's cross, I stare the place we call home.
On the twelfth there we join, to remember the boy, and to pray let's have no hope of Rome.
No, no hope of Rome, no chapels too sad in my eyes.
No lantern, no priests, no rosary pits, and every day's like the twelfth of July.
No, no hope of Rome, no chapels too sad in my eyes.
No lantern, no priests, no men.
Papa Woon are a close, just by Britain's cross, I instare the place we call home.
On the twelfth there we join to remember the boy and to pray let's have no hope of Rome.
No chapels too sad in my eyes No nuns and no priests No rosary pits And every day's like the 12th of July No, no hope of Rome No chapels too sad in my eyes No nuns and no priests No rosary pits And every day's like the 12th of July I
got an interesting email the other day, which I would usually read out loud in toto here, but because of our somewhat more stringent time restrictions these days, I'll just paraphrase and quote the odd excerpt or two.
This supporter, who is one of what I suppose might be called our old hands, although he's younger than me, was pretty pessimistic, especially after the Supreme Court crap last week, when the nine old swine legalized sodomitic marriage and allowed any old foreign national who strolls into a polling place on election day to vote in American elections.
I quote, Harold, whites cannot be organized.
They no longer have such behavior in their genetic makeup, and I think you're wasting your time even trying.
Don't try anymore, Harold.
It's like herding cats.
It can't be done.
Which, I might add, is an expression I have always despised in this connection because it's derogatory to cats.
Just be a writer, sell your novels, run your website, etc., and sit back and watch it all unfold.
Then, a little further along, he asks an interesting question.
Harold, suppose things don't change.
How do you see the future developing?
Ah, he wants me to peer into the old crystal ball, eh?
I get that a lot.
White nationalists of all tendencies love that.
They love crystal ball gazing because it keeps us from having to look at and smell the shit-reaking world around us.
And because maybe if we gaze hard enough, we can see some kind of possible future, which involves no personal risk or inconvenience to ourselves, and which will let us live to a ripe old age in peace, with the cable TV always connected, and we get to keep all our stuff and die ahead of the game.
Remember that old saying, life is a game and whoever dies with the most toys wins?
Well, like all fortune tellers, I'm under constant pressure to read that in people's future.
It's a natural human tendency.
People want their profits to give them good news.
Now this gentleman asks, is there any hope for the future, Harold?
Meaning, is there any hope that I or somebody else who is not him...
Will finally do something that he can simply watch happen on his television while he sits on his sofa with a plastic bowl of salty snacks and maybe a cold brew?
Is there some hope for the future that does not involve him personally actually doing something that involves risk or inconvenience or serious effort like moving to the Pacific Northwest?
Something that would not only require he get up off his sofa, but that he pack it in a moving van and drag it across the country?
Is there some non-Northwest hope for the future that will allow him to somehow keep all his precious stuff and not have his stuff taken away from him and given to niggers or illegal aliens as a bribe for them to vote Democrat?
Without the Northwest Republic, is there some hope for the future wherein the death angel of blood and fire and obliteration, who we can all see coming now, will somehow pass over his home and his family as the Jews celebrate their own Passover every year?
Is there some hope that he will die in a nice, clean, sanitary hospital pumped full of painkillers like Americans are supposed to end their lives instead of bleeding to death on the floor of his living room where the black or brown home invaders have left him lying beaten and slashed while he listens to the screams of his wife being sodomized in the next room?
I don't think this man needs a crystal ball to see that end coming.
He's lazy and he's frightened and he's confused like most American white people, but he's not stupid.
He's racially and Judaically aware, and he can see what's ahead.
It's there between every line of that email, and he desperately wants me to tell him that it isn't so, that there's an alternative somewhere to what I'm asking him to do.
The problem is there isn't.
That's what this guy's looking for from me, I think, although he doesn't say so in so many words.
He's looking for some kind of reassurance that the coming horror maybe won't be really so bad.
Not for everybody, anyway.
Especially if you have a little money and you can set up a telecommuting job so that you can get out of the city to the exurbs and maybe live in some remote little town in rural Pennsylvania or someplace.
I mean, you don't really have to move all the way to the Pacific Northwest, do you?
I mean, just getting 50 or 60 miles out of the city is okay, right?
And that's another kind of reassurance white people seem to need.
The idea that you can get away with half-stepping and short-stopping so you don't come all the way to the homeland, and thus you can escape and evade the moral obligations that the homeland in the Northwest Republic will one day demand of you.
Why they ask me, of all people, for such reassurance, I don't know, but they do.
I recently got an email from a young man who wanted me to give him some advice and assistance for his scouting trip to Utah.
Uh, sorry son, Utah is not in the homeland.
Okay, I'm rambling again, so let me at least make a stab at answering this man's question.
Okay, let's suppose, for the sake of argument, that the NF utterly fails to get its act together, either through the poor moral fiber and weak character of the people we attract, or else because I'm arrested and locked up in some cell with no internet access and more or less no male privileges like Bill White.
Or else because my health fails and someone finds me lying dead or paralyzed on the tenement floor one day.
Or, simply when, as is quite possible, this whole wretched ball of wax we live in simply comes apart at the seams through the sheer stumble-bum incompetence of the people running the United States of America.
Before we can get our act together and build a few communities with support systems.
And we're all swept away in some tide of fossil fuel or EBT card-related madness or other.
Now, no point in me or anyone tapping on our keyboards if there's no functioning internet and people in the grocery stores are stabbing and killing one another over the last remaining can of sardines, right?
So, let us gaze into our crystal ball at a future America where the Northwest Front has flubbed it.
Is such a world completely and utterly devoid of hope for some kind of revival of the 14 words?
Maybe not.
But by God, it is going to be an unholy mess.
And it's going to be an unnecessary mess.
We have a chance now to get this right.
For God's sake, let's do it.
And before we get into that, so that I will be able to give you guys an uninterrupted closing tirade here, let's take third music break.
This is a UVF song, The Ballad of Noel Kenner.
Music Come listen, my lads, as proudly we stand to remember a volunteer, a man who fought for Ulster's cause,
a man who knew no fear.
He fought against all tyranny.
From the Shankill Road he came.
Proud and loyal to the end, Noel Kinner was his name.
Noel lived by loyal truth, And to God the loyal fight.
One day to the heart of the IRA, a lethal blow did strike.
Detained by the net of the yard, you see, who took the old dog away.
But Noel did stand against her heavy hand, not a word to them did say.
When sentenced to life, there'd fall out much strife for this great proud volunteer.
Oh, see, in long cash, there'd be a lot of strife for this great proud volunteer.
Through illness and all he answered the call, always there for his volunteers, remaining strong as brothers in arms until his time was near.
After fifteen long years Upon his release Noel went back to the war Taking up the fight By day and night With the men of number five He swore to one and all His land would never fall Just
as he lived He gave all he could give No surrender was his cry So mind you lads Who these words I have said About this brave volunteer In Dondonnel he sleeps Watching over our streets in the town he loved so dear.
Watching his comrades now carry the fight to keep old Ulster free.
Watching over them all as they answer the call for Ulster and Liberty.
Watching over them all as they answer the call for Ulster and Liberty.
Okay, let's peer into our crystal ball, as we so love to do.
One of the many ways in which white boys escape and evade the moral obligation to take concrete steps in the real world of the here and now in order to change that world.
We are still the greatest practitioners on earth of that contemptible art form of avoiding doing what we all know we should be doing and fabricating elaborate, deeply sincere, thoughtful, convincing, and compelling reasons why we really, really should just do nothing and wait for somebody else to go first.
So, crystal ball it is.
Okay, the first thing you guys need to internalize is another Haroldian heresy.
One of those ideas that keeps getting me in so much trouble in this wee little world of our own that we live in, talking only to each other, because it flies in the face of our wee little world's received wisdom, i.e., the idea that all North American white people,
except for us, who speak only to each other in our little internet circle jerks, are total fools and cattle, completely clueless, dumb as a bag of hammers, And blind like a cow stumbling into the killing chute at the slaughterhouse and waiting for the blow of the compressed air hammer on their skulls.
That's pretty much the view most of us have of average white people, right?
White people don't know anything, don't even suspect anything, and don't care about anything, and they're so stupid that even if we did sit down and explain it all to them, they wouldn't understand any of it.
That's the prevailing orthodoxy in our tiny little circle, right?
Well, I don't think so.
Not anymore.
Okay, granted, 20 years ago, even 10 years ago, I would pretty much have agreed with that assessment.
After all, the birdbrain stupidity, the massive political and racial ignorance, and the bovine docility and submissive obedience of the white population of this country has been an indisputable fact of life.
for so long that sometimes we forget.
History is mutable.
It is a swiftly flowing river, not a stagnant pond, and the most indisputable and ironclad of facts Hell, don't feel bad, guys.
Even the dictatorship itself agrees with that assessment of white Americans.
Almost everything the regime has done for the past couple of generations, and especially in the past six years, has been based on the premise that the bulk of the white population in this country will never, ever revolt.
Either because we're too weak and timid and frightened, Or else because we're just plain too bird-brained, stupid and ignorant of what is happening to us and who's doing it, and because we are stupid enough to believe what we're told by the media.
Now, I agree with that up to this point.
True, I see no signs at all that white men will ever actually physically revolt.
Or resist the dictatorship in any organized manner.
That would require leadership, which in turn requires at least a small number of white males born with the alpha gene, and that does seem to have been pretty damn near bred out.
I'm sure that there are some remaining specimens out there, a few anyway, but until we stop talking only to each other and start reaching out to muggles, non-racially aware white people, and bringing them to northwestfront.org...
Then our chances of reaching those few remaining alphas are slim, and our failure to locate, contact, motivate, and activate these young men will probably be the main cause of the NF's failure.
If fail, we do.
So, let us presume that our race remains leaderless, rudderless, confused, and too timid, weak, and frightened for revolt or actual resistance.
Let's just presume that for the next few years, things continue to deteriorate endlessly.
Year after year, that may well happen.
The yellow strike down the white male back right now appears to be indelible, although in the future, anything can change, even that.
But remember this, and here comes the heresy now.
Cowardice no longer necessarily implies ignorance.
I believe now that a very large percentage of the remaining white population of North America, quite possibly even a majority of that population in all age groups, has through experience and necessity developed at least enough racial awareness and consciousness of their own identity as a persecuted minority to qualify as what the lefty libs would call racists.
Remember the two things that seemed to shock and horrify the Lefty Libs most of all about Dylann Roof, the fact that he took direct action at all, which white boys are never supposed to do, and the fact that he's only 21 years old.
The Lefty Libs, like the Democrats and the Salonistas and the Hufflepuffs, were so sure that they had successfully seized the culture a couple of generations ago and stolen an entire generation of young white people away from their elders.
Turning them into nigger lovers and race mixers and reliable Democratic voters who would spend the rest of their lives cornholing one another while shouting the praises of Hillary Clinton.
Dylann Roof wasn't supposed to happen.
Dylann Roof is living proof that reality can sometimes trump jackass and world of warcraft in a young white man's mind.
And God, that scares the dictator's servants silly.
Sorry, I'm wandering off the topic again.
Look, with all that's been going on for the past 40 years, With all the affirmative action and the racial spoils system and the constant insults and the degradations in the media, with all the Homer Simpson and Peter Griffin stereotypes insulting white men and white fathers in general, the racial and gender mockery and the constant atmosphere of insult with all the niggers' baboon-like howling about white privilege and Black Lives Matter and the constant racially motivated rape and murder and destruction.
The knockout games, the cyber lynching over a word.
Anyway, with all that, year after year, white people are finally getting it.
Because it's right up in their faces.
And we can no longer pretend that it doesn't exist.
We are a persecuted minority in our own land.
And I think now all of us pretty much know it.
So, what will American and Canadian white people do?
They will do what white people have always done when confronted with the issue of race.
They will run away.
That means that a large portion of the white population of the North American continent is going to come here to the Pacific Northwest, whether our wee little party is here or not, and whether or not we drop the ball in some manner, because that's what white people do.
You know those goat-dancing naysayers in our own wee little movement, all five or six of them who make so much noise on the internet that you'd think they represented some kind of serious opinion?
The ones who always yammer at the NF that were just running away?
Not that these maroons have any plan or solution to offer themselves, of course, other than continuing to sit behind our keyboards and go tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
Anyway, if the party folds for whatever reason, yeah, that'll be pretty much it.
Organic, racially motivated migration to the Northwest, regardless of whether the migrants are honest about their motives or not, will continue from white people who have no idea that I or the NF or the Northwest novels ever existed.
The demographic change that we're trying to achieve will happen in any case, or at least to some degree, as it already has happened in northern Idaho with no help from us.
Not so much because of the former presence of Pastor Butler or the region's reputation for Marian Nations days, or if so, we don't know how deep that runs, but very specifically because of the presence and standpoint of retired Los Angeles police detective Mark Furman.
A man whose claim to fame is that he dared to say the word nigger out loud once.
And the resulting media coverage has drawn probably hundreds of new white residents to the area, especially from California.
The Pacific Northwest is one of the few remaining decent places to live in North America.
It has living space, natural resources, a clean environment, favorable racial demographics, at least some remaining infrastructure, In short, all the reasons that we want to make it our new homeland are the reasons that ordinary white economic and social refugees want to come there.
You want to know what will happen if the party flubs all this or simply disappears from the scene because for whatever reason I disappear and by the time I depart I haven't been able to convince anybody else to step forward?
Well, we will still have all the makings of an independent sovereign nation up here because the Northwest Republic and the Northwest Migration are two different things.
The migration is happening and will continue to happen for reasons which have nothing to do with somebody reading the brigade or listening to this podcast and deciding he likes the music.
The migration itself is a human and historical inevitability created by a demographic and social and economic pressure that will not be denied.
A major white and right-wing alteration in the demographics of the Pacific Northwest is in the cards, at least outside the two major Interstate 5 metropolitan areas, and maybe in Spokane as well, as more and more whites who are fleeing diversity move here.
The question is, who will capitalize on that migration and create the Northwest Republic?
Well, how about it?
Any of you young white guys out there fancy being the father of your country?
Now, one way or the other, I won't be around forever, and the Northwest is wide open.
Better get your ass up here and get to work now, though.
But for the moment, our time is up 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, 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, well, I won't close in Irish like I normally do.
Instead, in honor of the glorious 12th, I'll sign off with...
No surrender.
When blood did flow in crimson streams through many a winter's night, they knew the Lord was on their side to help them win their fight.
They nobly stood upon those walls determined for to fight.
To fight and gain the victory and raise the crimson high.
They'll fight and don't surrender but come when duty calls.
With heart and hand and sword and shield, we'll guard old Derry's walls.
At last, at last, with one broadside, Count Heaven sent their aid.
The boom that crossed, the foil was broke, and James, he was dismayed.
The banner, boys, that floated was run aloft with joy.
God bless the hands that broke the boom and saved the apprentice, boys.
They'll fight and don't surrender but come when duty calls.
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