All Episodes
Sept. 24, 2015 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
01:05:28
20150924_rfn
| Copy link to current segment

Time Text
Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so.
Hush-a-woogle, hush and listen, and his cheeks were all aglow.
I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon, for the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, for the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon.
Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, where the gathering is to be?
In the old spot by the river, rifle known to you and to me.
One more roar for signal, token, whistle of the marching tune.
For your bike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon.
With your eyes upon your shoulder By the rising of the moon Out from many a mud walled cavern We're watching through the night.
Many a manly chest was throbbing for the blessed warming light.
The warmers passed along the valleys like the man she's lonely crew.
And a thousand blades were flashing at the rising of the moon At the rising of the moon At the rising of the moon And a thousand blades were flashing at the rising of the moon Greetings from the Northwest homeland, comrades.
It's September the 24th, 2015.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
Okay, we'll start with a Northwest novel update.
The five Northwest novels are now gone from Amazon.com, both printed copies and Kindle, but all my other books are still on offer, presumably because Amazon still has some existing stocks.
The Northwest novels are still being offered on the Barnes& Noble website, again due to existing stocks apparently, for instance, that claim to have eight new and used copies of the Brigade.
There are now printed and bound Samistat galley copies of the Brigade and Freedom Sons available, and I have a paginated PDF of A Mighty Fortress available for those of you who want to roll your own, so to speak.
Now, as some of you are aware, I've gotten involved in another literary project which has taken precedence for the time being.
But there will eventually be Samistat hard copies of all five novels available.
Right, we did a call-in show on September the 17th.
Not one of our more successful ones, since we only got two callers this time around.
I'm not quite sure what the dynamic is in play here with these shows.
The response is either very good or atrocious.
The most we've ever had in one of our conversations is nine people.
Eleven including Don and myself.
The worst was one caller.
I was recently asked by a comrade what the purpose and the vision of the call-in shows is, and I'll say this again.
Long term, what I want is a proper Rush Limbaugh-style internet call-in show, live, on a regular schedule, and directed at the public with a publicly available number where anybody can call in.
Now, let me be very blunt.
This will happen when you people decide to open your checkbooks and allow this party to professionalize to the point where we own our own equipment and technology and where we have some place permanent to install that technology, make a proper internet radio studio, and where we can acquire the services, minimally paid if necessary, of full-time, technically skilled white people who will place those skills at the service of their race.
Yes, I know, in theory...
There are services like Blog Talk and others that would provide such a program for us at a more or less affordable fee for a few shows until the goat dancers began to caper and twirl all around and use their sock puppets to create artificial controversy and or until someone here in the service started squabbling and spatting with us and they went into a sulk and they pulled the plug.
I have a bedrock principle.
What the party starts, the party maintains.
There is nothing in our tiny wee little white movement that looks worse, that looks more sloppy and raggedy ass, than constantly announcing these grand projects that wither and die after a few months for lack of money or else they just never get off the ground.
Now one of the ways that I intend to make sure that this party keeps up what it starts is to make sure that never is someone else's hand on the plug or someone else's hand on the rug that can be pulled out from under us.
I spoke extensively about this in the last organizational letter.
Now, I have half a dozen computer geeks in mind who have told me flat out that they would be flying into SeaTac next week with all their worldly goods in a suitcase and place themselves and their skills at the party's service if they could.
And indeed, they are eager to do so.
But they have to be coming to something.
They have to be guaranteed a roof over their heads to keep off the winter rain, at least a mattress on the floor to sleep on, as I myself did up until a few years ago, and a coffee maker for that great Seattle coffee, and a microwave for their Raymond Top Noodles and Hot Pockets.
They would also have to have some kind of secure workstation from which to operate, with adequate equipment and space.
That's all the party would have to provide in order to obtain for us the kind of skilled personnel we need.
For them, it would be a labor of love, but they would need those basics, and it's time everybody, including me, accepted the fact that they are not being unreasonable in asking that of us.
But we can't give these young racist techies that basic work environment they need.
And so, for now, they're still wasting away their lives in their parents' basement.
You guys, let me know when you decide you want to change that.
But I'll say one good thing about our present call-in format, and that's when I'm running short of time in my usual RFN window for the week, like I am this week, due to some medical stuff tomorrow, and I need to slap something up fast.
These call-in shows make excellent boilerplate that I can just kind of drop in where needed.
Okay.
I'm going to test right now.
Test, test, test, test.
Okay, I can see my little squiggles.
Yep.
And you can see mine as well.
Alright, this is the Radio Free Northwest call-in show.
Date is September the 17th, 2015.
And this episode, we're going to be soliciting comments from our callers on a couple of issues.
The first is their personal experiences in the economic field with diversity, affirmative action, and so forth and so on.
And also, some of their personal experiences in their family situations, not just their friends and relatives that have had bad experiences, but how their own families and loved ones and so forth have interacted or reacted to their fight.
Nationalist beliefs.
This is kind of a sensitive subject for a lot of us, and I will probably be doing a lot less talking this episode because we're going to see if we can get some guys to come on here and basically tell their stories.
And it's five o 'clock and now we wait.
But while we wait for our first caller, I suppose Don and I can natter a bit.
There was the second Republican debate last night between the huge field of presidential candidates for the Republican Party.
Donald Trump seems to have emerged from it unscathed, despite the fact that it was pretty obvious that everybody up there was gunning for him.
I didn't actually watch it, but I have seen clips from it on the internet and heard various commentators like Rush Limbaugh have their say about it.
And I saw one poll that said after the debate, Trump was ahead.
At about 53% of the base of the people polled.
And Carly Fiorina was kind of sneaking up on him, which is not too surprising since that was the first real debate she was in.
And trailing at a long distance was Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio, who I think have their own little beaner support cheering sections.
And everybody else was just down to like 1%.
Jeb Bush was at 1%.
Scott Walker, who actually does not appear to have been too bad of a governor of Wisconsin, was at 1%.
And it's just ridiculous.
The professional politicians are getting blown out of the water by Carly Fiorina and Ben Carson and Donald Trump and all of these people who are not professional politicians.
And it's pretty obvious that the people of this country have just had it with this whole zoo up in Washington, D.C. and they're ready to vote for anybody that will badmouth the present system, i.e.
tell the truth.
And who is not part of the Washington establishment.
So this Trump thing, I have to admit, is going to be an interesting phenomenon to watch.
I like the way Trump is sticking pins in other people's balloons or pet ideas or maybe killing their sacred cows, however you want to put it.
He's making them talk about things they don't want to talk about, and he's talking about things in a way that is more or less verboten in the mainstream press.
So he's making them very uncomfortable, and of course the powers that be are unhappy about this.
I still don't think he's going to make it to the White House because he's too much of a threat to the powers that be, but I agree with you, it's going to be a lot of fun to watch.
What will be interesting is if they can't stop him or quote-unquote take him out in the normal way, I think the plan up until now is to try and trick him into saying something just really outrageous, maybe try and see if it's possible to trick him into dropping an N-word or something like that, or maybe an F-word.
I notice that he does seem to steer clear of not only the nigger thing, but the homo thing.
And he does seem to be concentrating on the immigration issue, which is very important to just about everybody that lives in this country in one way or another.
You know, it's not a really stupid or clownish strategy.
He does seem to know what he's doing, despite the fact that he acts like a carnival barker.
And so, I would not be at all surprised to see him come so close to the nomination that the Republicans have to start doing things that are really, really unorthodox.
Like, for instance, some African maid in one of his hotels might claim that he raped her.
They took out that one Jew, Strauss Cohn, or whatever his name was.
Yeah, but looking at his wives, I don't think anyone would believe that.
His current wife is this young fashion model type.
It's really a stretch to try to convince people that he's screwing around on the side like that.
I don't know, maybe they'll claim they found kiddie porn on his computer or something.
That's always a good one.
Yeah.
By the way, I think part of Trump's public clownishness is an act.
His intelligent handling of hostile questions shows that he's not out of control psychologically.
I think it's an act designed to throw his opponents off guard.
I think it fits his strategy for them to think he's a bit of a buffoon and a fool so that they will underestimate him and that makes it easier for him to deal with them.
And again, look at the topics that he avoids.
The racial issue, as far as the black and white thing, he is supposed to have 25% of the African-American vote and all that sort of stuff.
And as I said on RFN, if the Republicans somehow get the idea that he can basically get 25% of the blacks to break the electoral plantation and leave the Democrats, that might actually bring the Republican establishment around to it.
Well, maybe.
I don't know.
Because that's always been one of their big dreams.
The Republicans have always had this weird obsession with getting large amounts.
Which, so long as they allow this situation with the media and they allow themselves to be vilified as they are, is not going to happen.
And which, again, is unfair because really both the Republicans and Democrats ideologically are still pretty much the same.
They want massive state or some kind of control over the population.
They don't like small business.
They want everybody working for a paycheck.
It's just the Democrats believe that that paycheck needs to come from the benevolent state.
And the Republicans want it to come from a multinational corporation.
But they have dreamed of getting these non-white minorities to break the Democratic plantation and vote for them.
And if Trump can convince them that he's able to do this, it's possible that they might actually decide to back him with this idea that somehow if he gets into the Oval Office they can control him.
Maybe they can.
I don't know.
I think in that case, once he actually got into the White House, Number one, he would be rather overwhelmed by the actual size of the problems he was being forced to confront, and at that point, the manipulation protocols would set in, and he would basically find himself kind of a prisoner in the Oval Office.
I question whether any American president really has the power, even if he has the will, to bring about any serious change.
Well, talking a little bit more about the presidential race, Hillary has officially dropped below the level of support she had at this point in the 2008 election cycle.
So she is worse off now than she was in 2008 when she didn't win the nomination.
Well, I can't see this old hippy-dippy red Bernie Sanders actually doing anything serious because you've got to bear in mind that Hillary has still a large part of the machine lined up behind her.
She's got this Jewish Debbie Wasserman Schultz, who's the Democratic National Committee chairwoman, completely on her side, who is clearly manipulating the debates in her favor.
She has a huge reserve of cash.
I think that they figured that was one of the reasons she lost in 2008, was all of a sudden this cash started appearing in Barack Obama's bank accounts off the internet.
Basically, it came from George Soros.
You know, I have my names for the Hilda Beast and the Sea Hag.
I was catching up on some of the columns of my favorite Jew, James Howard Kunstler, today.
And his name for her is Rodan the Flying Reptile.
She's flying over the presidential campaign going, The thing is, of course, will Biden get into it?
I think he probably doesn't really want to.
He'd be in by now, but Obama's probably waiting to see if this email thing is going to metastasize into anything that'll take her out.
I'm sure at some point they'll do something to actually recover the emails, which, um...
Sure can be done with a little bit of technical daring do.
If not off the server, they can track down and subpoena the recipients and senders' copies.
And eventually they should be able to reconstruct most of them.
Yeah, I don't think that they're even going to have to go that far if they're serious about it.
I think that technically...
Oh, here we go.
Oh, no.
Here on Radio Free Northwest, who am I speaking with?
You know, bluegrass and southern folk music, Appalachian music, so forth and so on, didn't just stay in the South forever.
As the white man moved west, he brought his music with him, and a lot of it has stuck in various parts of the homeland.
This is an Idaho folk and bluegrass group called the Random Canyon Growlers.
Songs Blue Ridge Mountain Girl She wears gold here in Chicago Wind can cut you like a knife Another
day, another dollar Pulled away to live through the light She was young and I was resting So I set out to see the moon Left my home in old Virginia And I was resting
hand I hold her.
Said she made a pretty bra.
As I lay here in the dark.
She lays by another side.
I got money in my pocket.
Diamond rings that I wear.
But I trade them all this minute.
For all the gold that's in her hair And I'd see her standing by the window There's nothing sadder in the world than to see those green eyes all red from brown.
I'm a blue East Mountain girl guitar
solo guitar
solo
guitar solo
So tonight we're going to discuss my seventh edition of Arthur Kemp's March of the Titans.
After the Civil War, the push west re-began in earnest.
Also, in the 1870s, America gets involved in the Cuban War for Independence.
Now, in 1898...
This led to an alleged attack on the Maine.
It's not certain what really happened, but at the time it was perceived as an attack.
In 1902, America ends up getting Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines as protectorates.
And some years later, the Jones Act is passed, and that makes Puerto Rican citizens.
Now, within the interior United States, at this point, most trade unions did not admit blacks and continued this policy until after World War II.
So, in that era, being a pro-union liberal didn't necessarily mean you were pro-black.
In many respects, the United States wanted to be neutral in World War I, and for the most part, also in World War II.
But three events would lead to involvement in the First World War.
Now, the first was the Lusitania, and that was a civilian ship that was carrying British munitions, and it was sunk by the Germans.
Now, also, you had the Zimmerman Affair, and that's lesser known than the Lusitania.
And that was the fear that Mexico could possibly ally with the Germans.
And then there was also this question of the Belfair Declaration, which was, I imagine, rather behind the scenes.
And that was when the Zionists agreed to help the Allies if they got Palestine.
Now, between the wars, you had Madison Grant and Lathrop Stewart, and they were strong advocates for the eugenics movement.
And for a while, the eugenics movement was very popular, and it influenced the 1924 Immigration Act.
But by the 30s and 40s, eugenics became to be strongly associated with the National Socialist regime.
That would cause its popularity to sour greatly.
During the Depression, of course, get Roosevelt's New Deal, and that would lead many blacks to become Democrats, whereas previously they'd been Republicans.
As the war loomed, there were many in the United States, and certainly, needless to say, pacifists and American national socialists that wanted the United States to remain neutral.
However, U.S. intelligence, and there's evidence now to back this up, Saw Pearl Harbor coming, but they did nothing to prevent it or to blunt its effects.
Now, the author notes that the military did not desegregate until after World War II, and in the case of the Air Force, not until the late 40s.
Now, I'm going to discuss the history of Canada.
Now, Newfoundland was explored by the Vikings, but it was rediscovered by Kabato.
In the late 1500s and early 1600s, you had a very serious attempt made to find a Northwest Passage, particularly through Hudson Bay.
Now, this proved to be futile.
However, by 1663, you did have Acadia and Quebec established and recognized as a province of France.
Now, after some conflicts with the Iroquois, the French government decided to encourage more European immigration, and especially unmarried white women.
However, in many areas of Canada, you did have more fur trade than farming, and so about 10% lived outside New France, and this led to a mixed population of Indian and white.
By 1763, British, who were just colonizers par excellence, they ended up taking control of Montreal and Quebec.
By 1834, the Canadians seemed to have caught a mild case of revolutionary fever, but they would never be totally out of the British domain.
Now, by the 1840s, you have something called the Act of Union, and that was between French Canada and English Canada, and this granted widespread voting rights.
And some decades later, you had the Charlottetown Conference that established Canadian Confederation.
Now, by 1871, British troops would withdraw from Canada, but Canada would always be part of the Commonwealth.
Canadians created the famous Mounties to deal with rebellious Indians, and by the late 1800s, you had Asians and Jews that were moving into Canada.
But in 1910, blacks would be declared unsuitable for the harsh climate of Canada.
Now, in 1969, the Indian Act was abolished so effectively that ended tribal land claims.
However, in 1999, the Inuit of the Mackenzie Delta established a racial homeland of Nanavat.
Now, I'm going to talk about the subject of Rhodesia, which has never come up before in my talks.
Of course, Rhodesia was established by Cecil Rhodes.
Rhodes was a British imperialist, wanted a British landholding to encircle the emerging Boer Republic.
In early November of 1893, the Madabel tribe, which was an offshoot of the Zulus, under the advice of a witch doctor, attacked the British South Africa Company, and they were attempting to drive out the whites.
Now, after a six-week siege, Bonaire Armstrong negotiated a peace treaty.
Now, during the late 1800s, it was really easy to subdue various hostels because you had long-distance communication, such as a telegraph, which was used to contact Cape Town in case of this particular siege, and you also had improved munitions.
Even at its peak in the 70s, the white population in Rhodesia was only about 300,000, and by 1921, contrast, you had almost 800,000 Bantu.
In 1923, there was a referendum on Rhodesia becoming part of South Africa, but apparently there was a no vote.
Due to financial problems, the British South Africa Company sold the mineral rights to southern Rhodesia.
Now, there were really two Rhodesias.
You had northern Rhodesia, which had only a few transient whites, and then you had the southern part, as I said.
So, in 1964, anti-colonialism was very strong, and so northern Rhodesia and another neighboring territory became Malawi and Zambia.
Southern Rhodesia was asked by Britain to have universal voting rights.
In 1965, Ian Smith made a unilateral declaration of independence.
Now, he asked to remain in the Commonwealth, but this request was not granted.
Now, at this point, the vote was given to whites and also anyone who was a property owner and also a few tribal chiefs.
In 1972, there were some black guerrillas that were based in Zambia.
And there were these two groups.
There was the Zimbabwe People's Revolutionary Army and also the National Liberation Army, and they were funded by Russia and China.
In 1974, apparently the Portuguese withdrew from a nearby territory, so insurgents were able to come into Rhodesia.
Now, at this point, the country really became an armed camp.
And with the exception of South Africa, they were without allies.
They made their own armaments, and they led the world in mind-proof vehicles.
And they had many successful cross-border raids in the Bush War.
Now, in the late 1970s, two civilian airliners were shot down, and so they developed modified exhaust pipes and special paint to decrease visibility.
On YouTube, there is a film called No Other Life, and this documents, among other things, how women joined the army to fill administrative and desk jobs in order to free more soldiers for combat.
Now, in 1979, South Africa withdrew support.
So, at one point, they only had three days of ammo and fuel left, and at this point, they went into a modified black rule.
Now, at this point, the country was renamed Rhodesia, Zimbabwe, and the goal was for whites to have 20 out of 120 seats in parliament.
Now, this goal was upheld by Lancaster House Agreement, but it was abolished in 1986 when they came under complete black rule and their economy was destroyed.
There is an excellent chapter in this book on South Africa.
However, I have covered South Africa in...
About four other RFNs.
I'll just give you some of the highlights.
It's said in this book that if it had not been for the 1899 Boer War and the concentration camps, it's estimated that the white population in Africa would have been three times higher.
The National Party was for English and Afrikaner equality.
And in the 1930s, voting rights in South Africa were extended to women and those who did not own property.
Now, there was a time in South Africa where even communists promoted South Africa for white workers.
But the thing was that despite many apartheid laws, the South African economy was vulnerable because blacks could go on strike.
The South Africans had an advanced society.
1962, they were doing heart transplants.
They had to be self-sufficient, and so they learned how to find oil from coal.
They were able to develop a sophisticated WMD.
Now, the famous Prime Minister for Wund wanted Blacks inside of South Africa to have independent homelands.
But the problem with this ideal is that most Blacks did not live in these areas.
They lived where they worked, and every house had at least one servant, and the farms were even worse off.
So again, it was a first-world environment that was very difficult to sustain.
So, I found this week's summary to be very impactful because I have to say I've been very fascinated with the subject of Africa and Rhodesia especially.
So I hope you enjoyed this discussion and have a good evening and hail victory, comrades.
Thank you.
A few weeks ago, I had a particularly obnoxious occasion to send out an email commentary on something that had come up on the subject of what's known as movement modernization.
Now, some of you will remember what I'm talking about here.
For those of you who do not know what movement modernization is, I'm not going to talk about it right now, but it is something that is, shall we say, not desirable.
Anyway, this commentary from Lord Lucan was in response to that email of mine, in case you're wondering what the hell he's talking about.
Outro Music
Accepting Jews?
You have to be kidding me.
A racist movement is a movement that is based on biology and not religion.
A Jew believes that he is chosen and special because God chose his forefathers and that being chosen in the past still applies today.
If a Jew joins the movement, he is joining for the purpose of being a gatekeeper.
The purpose of a Zionist gatekeeper is to talk about everything except the evil Jews.
That the Jews are evil instead of noble proves they are not Aryan, which means noble, and therefore not of our race.
A homosexual is a race traitor.
Islam is an evil religion, therefore any so-called white person that converts to Islam proves beyond all reasonable doubt that they are not Aryan, which means noble.
But the idea that the white race should be the ruling class in a country like India, the priest class in Hinduism, doesn't work.
You only have to go to India to find out how filthy such a country is.
On the other hand, you only had to go to an all-white country like, say, Germany in 1964 to notice the enormous difference between India and Germany.
In fact, you could smell the difference between Belgium and Germany.
The lowest class in India are a race of people that have spread throughout Europe.
They are the gypsies.
A German philosopher named Bauer wrote the Jewish question in 1843.
Socialism is the political idea that all citizens are equal under law, with no special privileges.
The Jew, on the other hand, wishes to retain his special privilege of being God's chosen, and consequently above the law.
Biology, on the other hand, gives advancement to the superior intelligence.
It does not give out legal privileges.
Bayer calls for the destruction of Judaism, and in fact all religions, since religions preach that believers have a special privilege, such as being saved or God's chosen, or the reward for believing will be in heaven or paradise.
Believing in being rewarded in the afterlife belongs in the dark ages.
We can see the destruction of the white race taking place before our eyes.
And all of this has come about because of the foolish belief in religion.
Belief in an apocalypse that a race war is coming, say, next Tuesday, and God is going to help the white race to win that war, like all other religious ideas, it only leads to people doing nothing.
Waiting on the Lord is a fool's paradise.
The race war has to be won by words and not by violence.
If I pick up my sword, I have one soldier, whereas if I pick up a pen, I can raise an army.
We have to have the army before we can go to war.
Violence is a last resort.
If we choose violence at this time, we can only become a very small army.
The superiority of the white race is its intelligence and nobleness.
These qualities can only be maintained by proper breeding.
The old order of my parents and grandparents was all based on religion and egalitarian philosophy.
But the laws of nature are not based on such a belief system.
Struggle is the true philosophy.
Not the Lord is my shepherd.
All species must struggle to survive.
Der Kampf, which means the struggle, is the philosophy of a German philosopher named Lasker, who was also a world champion chess player.
The title, Mein Kampf, were used by Hitler to appeal to other Germans who also accepted struggle as their philosophy.
We are a predator species.
All predator species must fight other predators.
to secure their territory for survival.
Belief in religion that the Lord is our shepherd only leads to the loss of our territory and the invasion of other predators who seek to steal our territory.
Music by Ben Thede And this is another song from Arland Bran.
It's called A Warning from South Africa.
Look towards South Africa and tell me what you see A million of our poor white folk who live in misery White farmers being tortured and then murdered every day The
infrastructure's crumbling But at least the black man's free Warning from South Africa For white folks everywhere A warning from South Africa In
1652 they came to free and empty lands.
The boar so brave and beautiful built farms with goodly hands.
The Jew was instrumental In them bringing their demise Just as was seen in prophecy The hammer and sickle flies South Africa For
white folks everywhere A warning from South Africa Greetings,
comrades.
This is the trucker coming at you from the middle of Oregon as I'm on my way up to deliver a load by just south of Portland, Oregon, and wanted to touch a little bit about common sense and your personal safety.
Whether you agree with it or not about the laws on seatbelts, The majority of the traffic accidents, the people that get killed, like the girl that I encountered last month, came up on a traffic accident.
It was a rollover, and she got ejected from the vehicle and run over by another vehicle out there on I-15 in Utah.
Sorry for her and her family's loss and stuff.
But you must admit that they are a lot safer wearing a seatbelt in an automobile accident than not.
You get on an airplane, you're required to.
I guess that's just to keep you in your seat because of turbulence.
Going at 550 or 600 knots and running into something, I don't think that's really going to save you a whole lot.
But anyway, when you go out in the rain, you normally take rain gear with you.
That's just common sense to either have an umbrella or raincoat or something along that lines.
If you, whatever term you use for them, if it's wet enough, you go and put galoshes over your shoes or put on some kind of rain boots or something along that lines.
Go out in the woods, and especially in the summertime around here and other parts of the country also, you got this nasty little problem called mosquitoes.
So you put on insect repellent to keep the insects away.
And if you go up like to Alaska and some other parts of the country, if you go walking in the woods, you better have a bang stick with you in case of grizzly bears or black bears or whatever.
So when you go into the other jungle, why wouldn't you carry protection there also?
Personally, I carry my protection with me all the time.
And...
For those of you over there in the British Isles and the EU and Australia, I feel for you because, like I say, I carry defensive weapons.
I mean, I don't necessarily carry them for offense, just for defense in case something comes along that needs to be dealt with, i.e.
like somebody trying to rob me or harm me or the wife or the daughter or the grandson, something along that lines.
Yeah, they're going to be...
Staring down the barrel of a.45.
And I don't just have one.
I usually have two to three on me.
Am I paranoid?
No, I'm just being safe.
Because I'd be willing to bet you have at least one fire extinguisher in your house.
I bet you don't plan on burning the house down, but I'd be willing to bet you don't want it burned down.
So that's why you have a fire extinguisher there.
And you don't plan on having your house broken into, but I'd be willing to bet you still have your doors locked.
So, I don't plan on being robbed or attacked, but I carry defense against it.
So, those of you that live in the jungle areas, like Detroit, Chicago, LA, where I just came from, yeah, it would be a wise choice to get out of the jungle, out of the environment of the predators, and move to a safer environment, and that's what we're trying to create up here in the Northwest.
So, unless you...
Like living in fear, wherever you are, you've got an option.
So, take advantage of that option and come on up here.
Let's get this thing going a little bit quicker than what it has been.
Alright, this is the trucker signing off from on the road in the homeland, headed northbound on I-5 in Oregon.
Catch you later, comrades.
Hope to see you in the homeland soon.
I'm Chris Bound, just watch a bandit run.
I'm Chris Bound.
I would venture to guess that a good many of the listeners to this podcast will As to who H.P. Lovecraft is or was.
If not, you should.
Interestingly, the lefty libs have recently become fascinated by the link between so-called right-wing views and science fiction.
For example, during the summer hysterics over the Charleston Vespers, I was referred to not just as a shadowy white supremacist, but as a shadowy white supremacist science fiction writer.
And apparently that is one propaganda offensive the lefty libs are now undertaking in that they are trying to take over science fiction and run all the white males out, so that young white boys don't even have fantasy to turn to anymore as an escape from the horrors of a politically correct upbringing.
At least not a fantasy, which is not under the supervision of the regime.
Young white boys are supposed to be playing Grand Theft Auto or other video games full of cool jive-talking niggers and evil Nazis to be killed and so on in order to socially engineer their minds in the right direction.
Our lords and masters don't want young white boys escaping into the world of Robert Heinlein or Brian Aldiss or Alfred Bester or Edmund Hamilton or Eric Frank Russell or Theodore Sturgeon.
Those are books that must be read and that requires literacy.
It also requires and stimulates thought, and young white boys must be taught how to feel like girls, never to think like men.
The result of actual reading is thought, not scores on an electronic screen that they can control.
Okay, I'm rambling again.
Back to H.P. Lovecraft.
Once again, I'm going to assume that most of you have at least some idea who Lovecraft was, because if I tried to explain it, I really would be here all day.
Now, if not, get on your Google and look him up.
His is a name from our past that you need to know.
One of the byproducts of that lefty-lib assault on science fiction and the entire science fiction literary canon prior to about 1970 As being too white and too male and too right-wing, although it isn't really, lefty libs always mistake libertarianism for wicked Howard fascism or whatever.
Oh, I'm doing it again, aren't I?
Anyway, one of the byproducts of this campaign is a self-flagellating debate over Lovecraft's strong Aryan nationalism, which he repeatedly expressed throughout his work in his personal letters, an estimated 100,000 of them.
Since Lovecraft was born in 1890 and died in 1937, this actually wasn't so strange, since pretty much all normal people felt that way to one degree or another back then, other than outright communists, of course, who were beginning to be a problem in Lovecraft's lifetime, as we'll see in a bit.
But to say that someone was simply a man of his time and culture is never good enough for lefty libs, because that doesn't allow them to rewrite history so as to deny white people a past.
Lefty libs also enjoy Lovecraft's fiction and poetry, hell, all white people and a lot of Jews enjoy it.
But they introspect and agonize over the very fact that they enjoy it, because they know they're breaking protocol by admitting that something good can come from a dead European white male.
Well, dead Yankee white male.
About a year ago, there was an article in Salon called It's Okay to Admit that H.P. Lovecraft was a racist.
Which is mighty quite of them.
And a month or so ago, there was a big long article in Atlantic Monthly about this very thing when they got the actor who does Ask Lovecraft on YouTube to go into this big, long, convoluted circumlocution about how, yeah, Lovecraft was a racist, but not really.
And if he was alive today, he'd surely have Salon Magazine and Huffington Post bookmarked on his browser.
Yuck.
Now, I was going to settle this question of H.P. Lovecraft's racism or lack thereof by reading a simple poem from 1912 called On the Creation of Niggers, but I think something a little more substantial is called for.
Now, this story was written in 1919 and you need to understand the historical context.
Not many people recall or indeed ever knew that in 1919 and 1920, the Bolsheviks, acting as the Communist Party USA, Made a semi-serious attempt to overthrow the United States government and Institute of Soviet America, specifically a bombing campaign that culminated 95 years ago this month in the Wall Street bombing that killed almost 40 people.
There followed what were known as the Palmer Raids, in which thousands of illegal immigrants from Russia and elsewhere, mostly Jews, were arrested and deported to Russia by the shipload.
Interesting contrast to our present immigration policy, eh?
Anyway, I repeat, the story was written in the late autumn of 1919 when it looked like America was facing a genuine armed and violent communist insurrection.
So keep that historical context in mind.
Listen to this, and allowing for the differences in time and place and culture, I don't think there's any question where Lovecraft stood on things.
The story is called The Street.
There be those who say that things and places have souls.
And there be those who say they have not.
I dare not say myself, but I will tell of the street.
Men of strength and honor fashioned that street, good valiant men of our blood who had come from the blessed isles across the sea.
At first it was but a path trodden by bearers of water from the woodland spring to the cluster of houses by the beach.
Then, as more men came to the growing cluster of houses and looked about for places to dwell, They built cabins along the north side, cabins of stout oaken logs with masonry on the side toward the forest, for many Indians lurked there with fire arrows.
And in a few years more, men built cabins on the south side of the street.
Up and down the street walked grave men in conical hats, who most of the time carried muskets or fowling pieces, and there were also their bonneted wives and sober children.
In the evening these men with their wives and children would sit about gigantic hearths and read and speak.
Very simple were the things of which they read and spoke, yet things which gave them courage and goodness and helped them by day to subdue the forest and till the fields.
The children would listen and learn the laws and deeds of old, and of that dear England which they had never seen or could not remember.
There was war, and thereafter no more Indians troubled the street.
The men, busy with labor, waxed prosperous and as happy as they knew how to be.
And more families came from the motherland to dwell on the street.
And the children's children and the newcomers' children grew up.
The town was now a city, and one by one the cabins gave place to houses, simple, beautiful houses of brick and wood, with stone steps and iron railings and fan lights over the door.
No flimsy creations were these houses, for they were made to serve many a generation.
Within there were carven mantles and graceful stairs, and sensible, pleasing furniture, china, and silver brought from the motherland.
So the street drank in the dreams of a young people and rejoiced as its dwellers became more graceful and happy.
Where once had been only strength and honor, taste and learning now abode as well.
Books and paintings and music came to the houses, and the young men went to the university which rose above the plain to the north.
In the place of conical hats and muskets there were three-cornered hats and small swords, and lace and snowy periwigs.
And there were cobblestones over which clattered many a blooded horse and rumbled many a gilded coach, and brick sidewalks with horse blocks and hitching posts.
There were in that street many trees, elms and oaks, and maples of dignity, so that in the summer the scene was all soft verdure and twittering birdsong.
And behind the houses were walled rose gardens with hedged paths and sundials, where at evening the moon and stars would shine bewitchingly while fragrant blossoms glistened with dew.
So the street dreamed on past wars, calamities, and changes.
Once most of the young men went away, and some never came back.
That was when they furled the old flag and put up a new banner of stripes and stars.
But though men talked of great changes, the street felt them not, for its folk were still the same, speaking of the old familiar things and old familiar accents, and the trees still sheltered singing birds, and in evening the moon and stars looked down upon dewy blossoms in the walled rose gardens.
In time there were no more swords, three-cornered hats, or periwigs in the street.
How strange seemed to the denizens with their walking-sticks, tall beavers, and cropped heads!
New sounds came from the distance, first strange puffings and shrieks from a river a mile away, then many years later strange puffings and shrieks and rumblings from other directions.
The air was not quite so pure as before, but the spirit of the place had not changed.
The blood and soul of the people were as the blood and soul of their ancestors who had fashioned the street.
Nor did the spirit change when they tore open the earth to lay down strange pipes, or when they set up tall posts bearing weird wires.
There was so much ancient lore in that street that the past could not easily be forgotten.
Then came days of evil, when many who had known the street of old knew it no more, and many knew it who had not known it before.
And those who came were never as those who went away, for their accents were coarse and strident, and their mean in faces unpleasing.
Their thoughts, too, fought with the wise, just spirit of the street.
So that the street pined silently as its houses fell into decay, and its trees died one by one, and its rose gardens grew rank with weeds and waste.
But it felt a stir of pride one day when again marched forth young men, some of whom never came back.
Those young men were clad in blue.
With the years worse fortune came to the street.
Its trees were all gone now, and its rose gardens were displaced by the backs of cheap, ugly new buildings on parallel streets.
Yet the houses remained, despite the ravages of the years and storms and worms, for they had been made to serve many a generation.
New kinds of faces appeared in the street.
Swarthy, sinister faces with furtive eyes and odd features, whose owners spoke unfamiliar words and placed signs in known and unknown characters upon most of the musty houses.
Push carts crowded the gutters.
A sordid, indefinable stench settled over the place, and the ancient spirit slept.
Great excitement once came to the street.
War and revolution were raging across the seas.
A dynasty had collapsed, and its degenerate subjects were flocking with dubious intent to the western land.
Many of these took lodgings in the battered houses that had once known the songs of birds and the scent of roses.
Then the western land itself awoke, and joined the motherland in her titanic struggle for civilization.
Over the cities once more floated the old flag, companioned by the new flag, and by a plainer yet glorious tricolor.
But not many flags floated over the street, for therein brooded only fear and hatred and ignorance.
Again young men went forth, but not quite as did the young men of those other days.
Something was lacking.
And the sons of those young men of other days who did indeed go forth in olive drab and with the true spirit of their ancestors went from distant places, and knew not the street and its ancient spirit.
Over the seas there was a great victory, and in triumph most of the young men returned.
Those who had lacked something lacked it no longer.
Yet did fear and hatred and ignorance still brood over the street.
For many had stayed behind, and many strangers had come from distant places to the ancient houses.
And the young men who had returned dwelt there no longer.
Swarthy and sinister were most of the strangers, yet among them one might find a few faces, like those who had fashioned the street and molded its spirit.
like and yet unlike for there was in the eyes of all a weird unhealthy glitter as of greed ambition vindictiveness or misguided zeal unrest and treason were abroad amongst an evil few who plotted to strike the western land its death-blow that they might mount to power over its ruins even as a
And the heart of that plotting was in the street, whose crumbling houses teemed with alien makers of discord and echoed with the plans and speeches of those who yearned for that appointed day of blood, flame, and crime.
Of the various odd assemblages in the street, the law said much but could prove little.
With great diligence did men of hidden badges linger and listen about such places as Petrovich's Bakery, the squalid Rifkin School of Modern Economics, the Circle Social Club, and the Liberty Cafe.
There congregated sinister men in great numbers, yet always was their speech guarded or in a foreign tongue.
And still the old houses stood, with their forgotten lore of nobler departed centuries, of sturdy colonial tenants and dewy rose gardens in the moonlight.
Sometimes a lone poet or traveler would come to view them and would try to picture them in their vanished glory.
Yet of such travelers and poets there were not many.
The rumor now spread widely that these houses contained the leaders of a vast band of terrorists.
Who on a designated day were to launch an orgy of slaughter for the extermination of America and of all the fine old traditions which the street had loved.
Handbills and papers fluttered about filthy gutters.
Handbills and papers printed in many tongues and in many characters, yet all bearing messages of crime and rebellion.
In these writings the people were urged to tear down the laws and virtues that our fathers had exalted, to stamp out the soul of the old America.
The soul that was bequeathed through a thousand and a half years of Anglo-Saxon freedom, justice, and moderation.
It was said that the Swartmen who dwelt in the street and congregated in its rotting edifices were the brains of a hideous revolution, that at their word of command many millions of brainless besotted beasts would stretch forth their noisome talons from the slums of a thousand cities, burning, slaying, and destroying till the land of our fathers should be no more.
All this was said and repeated, and many looked forward in dread to the fourth day of July, about which the strange writings hinted much.
Yet nothing could be found to place the guilt.
None could tell just whose arrest might cut off the damnable plotting at its source.
Many times came bands of blue-coated police to search the shaky houses, although at last they ceased to come, for they too had grown tired of law and order, and had abandoned all the city to its fate.
Then men in olive drab came, bearing muskets, till it seemed as if in its sad sleep the street must have some haunting dreams of those other days when musket-bearing men in conical hats had walked along it from the woodland spring to the cluster of houses by the beach.
Yet could no act be performed to check the impending cataclysm, for the swart sinister men were old and cunning.
So the street slept uneasily on.
Till one night there gathered in Petrovich's bakery and the Rifkin School of Modern Economics and the Circle Social Club and the Liberty Cafe, and in other places as well, vast hordes of men whose eyes were big with horrible triumph and expectation.
Over hidden wires strange messages traveled, and much was said of still stranger messages yet to travel.
But most of this was not guessed until afterward, when the western land was safe from peril.
The men in Olive Drab could not tell what was happening, or what they ought to do, for the swart, sinister men were skilled in subtlety and concealment.
And yet the men in Olive Drab will always remember that night, and will speak of the street as they tell of it to their grandchildren.
For many of them were sent there toward morning on a mission unlike that which they had expected.
It was known that this nest of anarchy was old, and that the houses were tottering from the ravages of the years and the storms and the worms.
Yet was the happening of that summer night a surprise because of its very queer uniformity.
It was indeed an exceedingly singular happening, though, after all, a simple one.
Without warning, in one of the small hours beyond midnight, all the ravages of the years and the storms and the worms came to a tremendous climax, and after the crash there was nothing left standing in the street save two ancient chimneys and part of a stopped brick wall.
Nor did anything that had been alive come alive from the ruins.
A poet and a traveler, who came with the mighty crowd that sought the scene, tell odd stories.
The poet says that all through the hours before dawn he beheld sordid ruins, but indistinctly in the glare of the arc-lights there loomed above the wreckage another picture, wherein he could describe moonlight, and fair houses, and elms and oaks and maples of dignity.
And the traveler declares that instead of the places wanted stench, there lingered a delicate fragrance, as of roses in full bloom.
But are not the dreams of poets and the tales of travelers notoriously false?
There be those who say that things and places have souls, and there be those who say they have not.
I dare not say myself, but I have told you of the street.
And 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, Sasha Underban.
Freedom.
Okay, I looked around on my hard drive for some kind of Lovecraftian vibe I can play for a musical close to this week's episode in view of the topic in the last segment, and this is the best I can find.
Export Selection