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Oct. 29, 2015 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
01:04:41
20151029_rfn
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Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so.
Hush a woogel, 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 bikes will stay 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, rightful known to you and me.
One more door for signal, token whistle, up an arching 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 bike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon, Many a man's 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 October the 29th, 2015.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
Okay, for reasons I won't get into, we are rushed, rushed, rushed this week.
We don't seem to have much of any MP3 submissions from comrades this week, except for Gretchen and the Trucker, unless this one comrade in the Outlands comes through with this one long MP3 file he promised me, but I haven't heard from him yet, and to be blunt, I don't have time this week to spend hours sitting here and tapping out a script.
So what I'm going to do is I'm basically going to ad-lib off a few talking points that I've noted down here.
Now the way this works is that at the end of every draft script I write for my monologues, I make a few notations on topics that have occurred to me down through the week, various subjects of possible conversation.
But which, for some reason, I haven't been able to get to that week.
And down through the months, that tale of stuff, so to speak, which I missed getting into week after week, and which is attached to my script template, has grown longer and longer, so I've kind of reached the point where I need to do something about it.
And what I'm going to do now...
is just run down this list of old, unexplored topics here, left over from the summer, mostly.
I'm going to talk about them in no particular order, and give you guys a mutter or two on each one, and see if I can't fill up at least 15 minutes or so for my opening monologue.
Now, one thing I do want to start off with.
This is our Halloween show, so we'll be having some spooky stuff on here, including some H.P. Lovecraft-related stuff.
Now, I've spoken about Lovecraft on here before, and I even read one of his short stories in Toto a few weeks ago.
I understand that a lot of you people don't get Lovecraft.
You don't even know who he is because you haven't looked him up on the internet, and you probably don't care because he's just some old eccentric pulp fiction writer who died in the 1930s, and I get that.
What always surprises me is how many of you do get Lovecraft.
If you don't, really, guys, you might want to try researching him.
He was a proto-national socialist while the Fuhrer was still slumming it in Vienna.
Personally and literary-wise, it's worth making HPL's acquaintance.
Now, guys, housekeeping note.
We are getting more and more requests for introductory packets.
That's the big mailed packet of literature, including a hard copy of the party manual.
The white book and your receipt of that intro packet begins the Northwest Front contact process.
Guys, if possible, don't try to contact me via the contact form on the northwestfront.org website.
The fact is, I just simply don't go there as often as I should.
I keep meaning to every day and I miss it and all of a sudden I turn around and I haven't been on there in a week.
So it is not the best way to contact me.
You need to use my email address at nwnet at earthlink.net.
That's n-w-n-e-t at earthlink.net.
When you do, you will get a little thing back from Earthlink asking you to request to be added to my contact list.
Please click on that and affirm it, and I will get back to you as soon as possible.
It's a much quicker and easier way to get in touch with me than through the site.
Let's see.
Oh, one more thing.
This just came up today.
This morning I sent out an email, kind of half sarcastic, with a link to a nice little YouTube movie about cheese, which actually was mildly interesting.
And I made a comment on there to the effect of this is what I'm getting instead of money.
And one guy emailed me back and said he was all insulted and upset and I was being mean and dismissive again and blah, blah, blah.
Look, guys, I told you some time ago.
I am going to be going into a Jim Baker phase where I am begging and shouting for money like televangelist because that's what we have to have right now.
I don't know when this phase is going to end and you're just going to have to accept it's going to be like that for a while.
I don't like it.
I hate it.
But it has to be done.
The time has come for us to move forward.
I have explained to a lot of you what we need to be doing in the organizational letters, so a good many of you understand what I'm getting at here.
But the fact is, the things that we have to do right now can only be done with the folding green stuff.
We do not have any secret sources of funding.
The right-wing fat cat is a myth.
We don't have the Koch brothers or that Jew millionaire Sheldon Adelson financing the Northwest Front like the Tea Partyites and the Republicans do.
I very much doubt that anything of the kind is ever going to happen.
The fact is that if we can't get a lot of money from a few people, we're going to have to get a little money from a lot of people.
Now, I've said before, we have approximately 5,000 hits per week on this website.
If through some alchemy I could obtain a small amount of money, either as $10 a month party dues, which is what we ask for, or else just as...
A reasonably generous donation two, three times a year that bears some significant and realistic relationship to that person's ability to support, then we'd have it licked.
Just ten bucks a month from all 5,000 of those people.
We could make a party on that.
We could make a revolution on that.
We could make a homeland on that.
I've said before in the little audio file I put out and elsewhere, I am not very good at this and I know it.
I'm not a masterful fundraiser like some of the other fearless leaders you may be used to.
But I have figured out this much down through the years.
If I don't ask for it, I ain't going to get it.
Now, I'm sorry if it seems like I use mostly the stick and not the carrot, but the fact is that if we could raise enough money to get a proper revolutionary political party going, I would actually have a carrot to use instead of the stick, if you follow.
In essence, I'm asking you to give me a little bit of money.
Anyway, look, I will never ever intentionally insult and abuse most of you.
But there are times when I just have to lay it on the line.
There are times when you just have to tell it like it is, and that's much more my style than some of the other fearless leaders who talk so nice and smooth and send you these long, weepy fund appeals and slip the shekels out of your pocket like their fingers were greased with butter, and I just, you know, that's not my style.
And yeah, I know.
My style isn't the best.
It doesn't work anywhere near as well as it should, but I don't know what to tell you guys.
I am what I am, and it is what it is.
Now, we in this society, down through the generations, have developed an almost frantic aversion and intolerance for the truth.
A large part of my duty station in this movement down through the years has consisted of telling you the truth that you don't want to hear.
I know it would probably be best for everybody if I could change my style, but I don't think that's going to happen.
I'm a little bit too old of a dog to teach new tricks.
So, if some of you want to be offended, that's fine, and you can be just mortally offended and horrified while you're, you know, slipping that contribution in the envelope and addressing the letter, okay?
Now, another thing I've got noted down here.
A while back, one of our comrades was talking about the Northwest novels and how the Northwest national anthem in those novels is A Mighty Fortress is Our God.
I don't know how many of you have actually heard it.
It's pretty powerful stuff, and it's written by Martin Luther, which of course gives it great historic context.
But this man suggested that we have a kind of a contest in our wee little circles to create a real national anthem for the Northwest Republic.
He says, well, look, we've got a flag, we've got a constitution, we might as well have a national anthem.
Well, okay.
I'll tell you what I'm going to do here, just to see what you can come up with.
And this is not something that I'm promising.
I'm not saying this is going to be our official contest for a national anthem.
I'm not saying that this is going to be proclaimed on the Day of Independence or anything like that.
I just don't know.
As I've said before, we don't know how these things are going to happen.
What I will do is I will drop in here a quick song just to give you the tune.
Now, this is actually kind of the unofficial national anthem of Wales.
It's a very popular Welsh song, and as you can hear, the Welsh are very great choral singers.
They always have been.
It's part of their tradition.
And this is a pretty good version of this song.
The English translation is Land of Our Fathers.
And don't worry about the Welsh words, but think of the tune.
Imagine this tune with English words as the national anthem of the Northwest American Republic.
Give me about three or four verses, and let's see what you guys can come up with along the lines of a possible national anthem for our new country.
I will publish the responses I get in writing on one of the blogs, probably.
I will publish the responses I get in writing on one of the blogs,
I love you.
Okay, let's see what else I've got in scribble down here.
Oh yeah, one guy was writing to me claiming that what's happening in Europe now with the continent being overrun by migrants from various eastern locales proves that the Europeans were very foolish to give up their guns and to allow gun control laws and that sorts of say.
See, Harold, see what happens when you don't have gun control laws?
Well, I don't know.
We have guns, 300 million of them.
We're getting overrun almost as bad right now as the Europeans are and we don't resist.
The Irish aren't resisting.
I mean, hell, for 800 years they'd stab or shoot or blow up somebody because he had an English accent or because he went to a Presbyterian church.
They would fight tooth and nail to fight off white invaders, but when black and brown invaders come to the Greenland, they lay down and take it like little mice because you see to resist would be racism.
The problem is one of culture.
The problem is one of mental conditioning and social engineering.
We need to get our peoples.
Mine's right, both here and in Europe.
I've said this before, and I know it gets me in a lot of trouble.
I'm not all that worried about gun control.
As far as actually going from house to house and taking all the guns, I don't believe that's going to happen because I don't believe this regime, frankly, is competent to do it.
I don't think they can.
I think the condition of the federal government of the United States is decayed to the point where that wouldn't be a realistic possibility, but there's no point in hanging on to the guns if they're not going to be used for the purpose for which the Founding Fathers intended them.
I've said this before, and I'll say it again.
If we can ever manage to get some iron in our hearts, we won't have any problem getting some iron in our hands.
Okay, here's an email.
I got a while back from a comrade in Britain.
Greetings, Harold.
Do you have any means of communication which you know isn't bugged by our beloved thought police?
If so, please let me know.
Okay, a lot of people, I'm sure, are wondering about that.
Now, I use email and, to a lesser extent, texts because, basically, I have to.
Not only is it incredibly fast and inexpensive compared to the old paper and postage stamp letters of the old days, But the fact is that whether we like it or not, this is the year 2015, and this is how people communicate.
We have to use these things.
There have been times in the past when I have sat down and seriously considered whether or not it would be possible to take the Northwest Front back to the days of print and paper and postage stamps, not the least being to evade this constant surveillance on the part of the, well, surveillance state.
I'm not going to do that en masse, because obviously, if we are to have any hope of ever reaching any large number of people, we have to make use of the one mass medium of communication which is available to us, which is the Internet.
However, for any communications that you do want to keep secret, Paper and postage stamp private letters are probably the safest technique now because, frankly, the secret police have gotten lazy.
They're too used to sitting in their cubicles, sipping on their Starbucks and playing with their computers and looking for buzz and chatter.
I'm sure a lot of these newer FBI agents don't even know how to do a proper mail cover like from the old J. Edgar Hoover days.
And if they do, given the amount of man hours necessary to run a proper mail cover, I would suspect that paper and postage stamp mail covers are probably pretty low on their list of priorities unless they actually suspect that there might be something juicy in there by way of a crime or conspiracy or whatever.
If they have actual reason to believe that you're using the mail to do something you shouldn't be doing, yeah, then they'll, I'm sure, make the effort to run a mail cover.
But just for routine surveillance, just for ordinary common or garden variety spying of the kind that the regime mostly does these days, my guess would be that they're going to get to the mail covers and steaming open envelopes last.
Which probably means you have more security there than you do with email or texts or phone conversations.
Okay, let's see.
These are some notes I made at the end of these scripts.
How do we break the 5,000 listener per week ceiling?
Well, I don't know, guys.
How do we?
I've said this before.
One of the reasons I think that we're having this problem is that we speak only to ourselves.
Most of you guys out there, I'm sure, have your own little list of email contacts of, you know, five, six, seven, a dozen, maybe 20 or 30 evil, wicked, white, racists like yourselves all around the world that you send all your little YouTube links and your websites to and, well, look at this, and, oh, see what they're doing now, you know, what Andy calls bad news porn, so forth and so on.
Guys, we have to break out of that.
We have to start taking our message out of our little bubble and into the community as a whole.
I can't do that for you.
That, I suppose, is something I really should address at great length in the future.
On the music, Evil Karaoke is setting a higher standard.
Yeah, yeah.
That's one thing I like about these Evil Karaoke songs that I've been playing.
They're actually setting a higher musical standard than, frankly, a lot of the earlier skinhead rock.
Now, one thing on the various More Q and other evil karaoke songs, I have been getting some feedback from some of you guys to the effect of, hey, Harold, you know, we like this stuff.
We like the More Q. We like the karaoke.
We like the racial songs.
We really dig it.
But one of the reasons that we were originally attracted to Radio Free Northwest was your own taste in music and the type of music that you were playing.
Music from our white Aryan heritage a lot of us didn't even know existed.
And they're right.
I've gotten a lot of emails and contacts from people who tell me that I've gotten them into bluegrass or medieval music or that sort of stuff.
What I'll probably do in the future...
Okay, this doesn't apply to this week's show because it's Halloween and we're going to be playing all the ghostly stuff.
What I'll probably do for the future is to play maybe one racial or karaoke song per show and the other two music breaks will be older, more traditional Aryan music, something like that.
We haven't had any actual classical music on here for quite a while, and in honor of the season, I'm going to play for you now what is probably the ultimate classical Halloween or ghostly or macabre piece.
It is called The Dance Macabre by Camille Sanson.
It's a little longer than I usually play on here, but hey, what the hell, it's Halloween.
Halloween.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Good night.
Good evening, comrades.
So tonight I'm going to be discussing a classic book.
It's going to be Upton Sinclair's The Jungle.
And this is a story of innocent Lithuanians who are lured to Chicago with the idea that they would become rich.
Now, the story is told through the eyes of Jargis.
who wants to earn enough money to marry the love of his life, Anna.
Now, he believes that the way to do this is to move to America and to go to Chicago and to work in a meatpacking district.
Now, at first, Jargis is amazed by the efficient factory atmosphere, and he's very grateful for work.
At first, he can't imagine why anyone would want to join a union.
But eventually, Jargis realizes that it's always possible for someone to become injured or for a person to be unable to find work, perhaps an older person, as in the case with Jargis' father.
So eventually, Jargis does see the value in a union, and he also starts to learn English.
Now, more and more, he and his family realizes that it's very hard to make ends meet in a packing town.
They try to buy a house, for example, and they find out that they soon get very deeply in debt.
The reader might even wonder why would any family want to stay in Chicago?
Now, as times are getting harder and harder for family, Jargis discovers that his wife Anna is pregnant for a second time.
She's already had one child, a son, who is really the apple of Jargis's eye.
Now she's once again pregnant, and she becomes pressured into prostitution.
This arrangement can't possibly last very long because of her condition and because of the fact that she's no longer as attractive as she used to be.
But this makes Jargis very upset, and he's driven rather mad by it.
And he ends up committing an assault and going to prison.
Now, when he comes home, he discovers that the family has lost their house, and also his wife ends up dying in childbirth.
Now, a few months later, the eldest son dies.
He ends up dying in a flood that...
Ends up somehow the middle of the street floods and the eldest son dies.
Jargis continues to attempt to get various factory jobs, but even when he or another family member can get a good job temporarily, the job may not last.
At one point, Jargis even works in a tractor factory, and it's a very well-run factory, but eventually Jargis gets laid off.
More and more, Jargis is in deep despair, and eventually he runs off and lives the life of a tramp.
And he really lives hand to mouth.
In his travels, he gets help from some of the farmers outside of town, and for a while is even taken in by a rich capitalist.
Now, eventually he realizes that he can enter the Chicago world of crime and corruption, and he becomes a scab.
But eventually he sees Connor again, and Connor is the head of the prostitution ring.
And again he goes...
Quite crazy and assaults Connor.
Now at this point, no one can help him because he has attacked a friend of Sully.
And Sully is one of the powers behind the scenes.
And again, Jargis is on the outs.
Now at this point, he becomes very destitute and really too weak to work.
At a point where he could even be near death from malnutrition, he meets one of his relatives.
And at first blush, she seems to be doing very well.
Now Jar just comes to learn that she is a madam, and she believes that she's really made the right choice, even though she has become a morphine addict, which is often the case with both prostitutes and madams.
She reflects back on Anna, and she says that Anna should have been more open to prostitution, even though it's clear that Anna's mental disposition and physical state would have mitigated against that career choice in any case.
At this point, Jargis realizes that he must once again take up the position of a wage earner.
So he goes out on the street once again looking for work.
Eventually, in wandering around on the street, he finds a socialist meeting.
Now, at first, he's so tired and weary, he barely even knows where he is, but there's a lady in the audience that calls him Comrade, and she says, Comrade, if you would listen to the speech, you might be interested.
He becomes a born-again socialist, and at this point he feels that he's walking in the sight of justice because he has a purpose in life.
Now, he stays after the meeting and asks for some help.
He says he wants to learn about socialism, and he's put in touch with a Polish immigrant who is a socialist activist.
And at this point he learns about wage slavery.
And why so many families are stuck in the packing town.
Now, we're also told in this book that the socialists work on two levels.
On a legal and mainstream level, they work to help the working class with whatever legislation might come about and might be helpful.
But on the other hand, they work towards revolution.
We're told that the socialist goals are really the true realization of what Jesus really taught.
Now, the socialists believe in the democratic management of necessities and class consciousness of the wage earners, but they also believe in philosophic anarchism and the free development of the personality.
Some are really utopian, and they even dream of a time when workers can work only one hour a day and otherwise pursue their personal interests.
And maybe that we're getting to a time in history where one could finally do that at this point.
This book was written at the turn of the century, by the way.
And they talk about this idea of dispensing with profits.
And the way that science will eventually eliminate the need for a lot of the work that they have to do.
Now, they start their own financial institution, which is a cooperative commonwealth to help their comrades.
Now, this story is really a look at pure communism or pure socialism, and this was before the movement was commandeered by those who wanted to set up a military dictatorship.
Because when we're talking about Stalin and Ceausescu, we're really talking about military dictators and not true socialists or communists.
Now, another thing that socialism came up with, which eventually became mainstream, was something called the Pure Food and Drug Act.
And this is something that you would really understand if you read this book, because there were a lot of dangerous additives in the foods at that time.
I suppose I can imagine other public safety acts, such as proper drainage in the streets.
Georges finds great meaning in this movement, and he's able to get help from other comrades, and eventually he becomes a speaker for the socialist cause.
Now next week, I'm going to be discussing, as I've said before, Chapter 65 in March of the Titans, and in that chapter, I'm going to describe a real worker's paradise.
It all reminds me...
Once again, of that very interesting essay that I read this winter about National Socialism really being a left-wing movement, not just a movement, or really not a movement about going back to the past or being conservative, which is often a mistake that many of us make when we think about the movement.
So I'm very excited, as I said before, to get to that chapter.
But this book was also a request.
Certainly it is a classic book and a critically acclaimed book, and it really shows why socialism developed because of modernity and the means of production and the way that freewheeling capitalism was really very harmful and was in dire need of reform.
So I hope you enjoyed this discussion, this summary, and have a good evening and hail victory, comrades.
We're about to die, ladies.
We're going to do what they say can't be done.
We've got a long way to go, and it's a short time to get there.
I'm westbound just like a band and run.
If you put hard on the belt, some belt will bind them brakes.
Let it all hang out cause we gotta run the bait.
Greetings, comrades.
This is the trucker coming at you from Iowa.
I'm headed westbound with a load.
Got to swap out trailers with another driver over Nebraska and head to work for Monday delivery.
By the time you hear this, I've already kicked the load off.
But anyway, seeing as how Halloween is coming up, I thought I'd touch base on situational awareness and all that while you're out on the road and all that.
I already know to go and watch out for the little kiddos out there trick-or-treating, but more along the lines of the juvenile delinquents that like being royal pain in the ass for drivers out there, the ones that like to drop things from overpasses and possibly come through your windshield, like rocks or whatever else they can figure out.
So if you see a bunch of debris on the road in front of you or cars swerving or breaking...
If you have the black lights coming on as you're coming up to an overpass, that might be a good giveaway that there's some juvenile delinquents up there doing things they really shouldn't be doing.
Another thing you're all known to be aware of is the flying dairy products, such as eggs.
But over in northern Idaho here, within the last year I guess it was, little turd heads decided to go and put a new twist on road hazards.
Somebody came up with a roll of shrink wrap and they were going back and forth between the pylons holding up the overpass at night.
They'd go and put multiple layers.
Of shrink wrap for securing loads on pallets for shipment in the trucks across the interstate.
That can be bad enough in a car, but if you're the poor SOB out there riding a motorcycle, you may as well kiss your ass goodbye.
You go and hit that shrink wrap and stuff, you're going down and possibly getting severely injured or dying.
It's bad enough in a car.
I'm not sure exactly what it would do to my truck other than probably rip the mirrors off the hood and stuff.
But 80,000 pounds against shrink wrap, well, I don't think the shrink wrap is going to stand up too well.
Yeah, that could definitely screw you up and make life real interesting.
It could put you off the road in the ditch or you may end up going to the hospital.
So this holiday season, please be on guard for the notorious little bastards that like to screw Screw with motorists.
Okay, this is my little segment from On the Road, so stay safe this Halloween season there, comrades.
This is a trucker signing off.
This is a trucker signing off.
This is Hot Rise.
There's a tale that they tell down in Old Wolf County Of a murderous husband and his family of three One dead neighbor from over the hill He found them dead in the cabin It was so
deathly still I hope you don't find me I'd rather be dead Than to live in your jailhouse For the rest of my day Sometimes
at night I wake to the sound of a man in a distance in the bag of hounds.
Once all alone in the spring of the year,
I heard We're good
He hid in a cave by the steep river shore'Til he gave himself up, he started walking downtown Before he got to the courthouse, the man shot him down
But I cannot live like a man out and run.
I'm glad that you killed me.
You can make me my grave It can't be much worse Than that dark lonely cave Sometimes at night I wake to the sound Of the men in distance In the playing of
clouds Once on a moon In the spring of the year I heard breaking branches And footsteps so near I heard breaking branches This is called H.P. Lovecraft, Thulu Mythos Explained.
I'm not sure who did it.
What this is is kind of a collection or pastiche of a lot of quotations from Lovecraft's works, plus commentaries by assorted people, and I'm not quite sure who those are, on Lovecraft's stories and his ideas, so forth and so on.
The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear.
Is fear of the unknown.
I've collected books full of evidence in support of the idea that there are worlds beyond our own.
And people, creatures that have come here from somewhere else.
So you believe these creatures are alien beings of some kind?
The Pinnacook Indians described similar things, did they not, Professor Wilmarth, ages ago?
They said that the beings were not native to this earth, that they had flown here from the stars, creatures in league with Satan, only too happy to lead mankind down the path to sin.
The hidden race of monstrous beings is said to lurk somewhere in the remoter hills.
Tales of settlers who vanished and others who collaborated with the beings.
I'm familiar with these legends.
Being immediately aware that there was something far more potent going on here, to the extent that I genuinely felt that I was almost reading something forbidden.
This was so disturbing and so frightening.
It's really creepy stuff.
It gets under your skin.
I think it's kind of obvious.
You tear down the walls of any kind of civilized person.
Behind there is something that's really abominable lurks.
The universe is a mechanism, kind of a machine that runs automatically without the guidance of a deity.
At the same time, he realized that we don't know everything there is to know about the universe and never will.
Our sensory limitations will always close us off from understanding the universe totally.
Things much older than mankind, things much older than Earth, are gazing upon us with indifference.
And cruelty.
Those old ones were gone now, hidden in distant wastes and dark places all over the world, until the time when the great priest Cthulhu, from his dark house in the mighty city of Relye under the waters, should rise and bring the earth again beneath his sway.
Instead of it being that there are, you know...
Demons coming from hell, there are these weird tentacled creatures coming from other worlds into ours, and that they have been banished, and that they will return someday and regain what was once theirs.
The old ones are the universe, the old ones are the cosmos, they're that force beyond us that we're incapable of controlling, and they're that force, they're the universe that is faster than we can ever comprehend.
Prior to Lovecraft, If you read horror, if you read ghost stories, you always have a vision of a world which is fundamentally hospitable.
God is looking after you.
God is looking after the good people.
Good people will probably survive horror stories or ghost stories or whatever.
Lovecraft redefined things.
He took it away from the ghost story, away from the Gothic, and into this vision of a malign world.
This place surrounded by evil, mad, horrible, monstrous things, always trying to get in, who frankly don't really care about us.
The vision of Lovecraft is one in which you have these ancient powers that are godlike and malign.
They do not particularly like us.
And they are much more powerful than we are, and they can squash us like bugs.
And if we simply get into the kind of places where they exist, we will be destroyed.
It was a book of spells, conjurations, damnable writings, forbidden words, that were written by the mad Arab Abdul Al-Hazred.
It was called the Al-Azif, which is the noise made by insects in the desert.
A spooky enough noise in itself, yeah?
The Necronomicon is a gate, if you will, but not a gate in the traditional way.
It's something that you could walk through, enter a new area, enter a new space.
It's a gate that actually opens you up.
By the next harvest, flora and fauna are found deformed, and the Gardner family is infected with an unexplained madness.
It happened in June, about the anniversary of the meteor's fall, and the poor woman screamed about things in the air which she could not describe.
In her raving, there was not a single specific noun.
She was being drained of something.
Something was fastening itself on her that ought not be.
I just walked into my first ever convention, and I was a journalist, writing about...
This convention.
I wasn't there really as an attendee.
And there was a panel.
Carl Edward Wagner was up there.
Ramsey Campbell was up there.
Irish artist named Dave Carson was up there.
And a mad English theorist named George Hay put up his hand and said, what does the panel think about what I believe to have happened, which is the Elder Gods were using H.P. Lovecraft To convey their story to mankind and to build up belief levels to the point at which they could manifest.
And every now and then I hear people explain that to me as the truth.
All right, Henry.
What is it they want?
Shall I tell you?
Are you ready?
Come closer.
Let me whisper it to you.
Secrets of the universe itself.
I tell you, at conventions, various conventions, I've met people who only read Lovecraft.
Now then, forget your fear of the dark or your fear of alien creatures hovering on the borders of reality waiting to break in.
I'm frightened of these guys who've only read Lovecraft.
There's something wrong there somewhere.
They've gone mad with dreams, nightmares, and visions of Cthulhu.
This is based on one of Lovecraft's more well-known early stories called Herbert West Re-Animator, which was made into a really, really gross Hollywood movie.
In the beginning, I was walking to an old graveyard near Big Cypress Swamp.
It was a celebration of some kind.
Everyone we knew was there, and Paul Whiteman and his orchestra.
In the middle of the graveyard, in walks your grandmother Prudence.
May she rest in peace.
Grandma Prudence?
How did she look?
Well, we have seen worse.
Naturally, I went up to greet her.
She said to me, You thought that I was dead?
Knock it off, knock it off.
But you were quite misled?
Nothing more than a cough.
I've had a lovely rest, since I met Herbert West, the great Rhiannon man.
Herbert West?
He's really very bright.
He's a prof. He's a prof. If you don't mind a fright, nerds will be badly off.
For true it would be best to marry Herbert West, her great reanimator.
Marry Herbert West?
She must have heard wrong.
She meant Wilbur faintly.
You must have heard wrong, Grandma.
It's not Herbert.
It's Wilbur Wadley, Grandma!
That dear Prue is gonna wet!
No!
It must be her man!
Henry, my great-grandchild!
My little Prudence, who you named for me!
Herbert's bride was meant to be!
She'll never have to die!
Walk it off, walk it off!
Or even say good boy!
that's a thing not to stop.
I'm really quite impressed with darling Herbert West, the great reanimator.
We already took out an ad in the social register.
We already agreed to have lunch with Wilbur.
But we announced it, Grandma, in the papers.
And Wilbur waited, Grandma.
We were gonna meet for lunch.
No, no, no!
So you announced that Henry, that's your problem.
Look, as woman Wheatley can I say to you, Henry, that's your problem too.
You thought that she was dead?
Knock it off, knock it off.
That's not what Herbert said.
Walk it off, walk it off.
With just a small syringe and research on the phone.
He's a reanimator.
But what about Wilbur?
A great reanimator.
I never liked him anyway.
A great reanime Shhh!
Shhh!
Look, who is this?
Who is this?
Who comes here?
Who?
What woman is this?
All furtive and misshapen.
Could it be?
Sure!
Smells like fish!
I'll say!
Who could be mistaken?
It's the wizard's girl come from beyond the grave.
It's the wizard's strange creepy albino girl.
Vinnie Wakely!
Minnie Wakely What is this about your daughter marrying my Wilbur?
Percy Wilbur!
Don't you know she's destined for his fearsome older brother?
Older brother!
If you think your stupid daughter Prudence will escape me Escape her Then you're also very stupid and you will be sorry Very sorry Plans for rehabic plans They plan to take your daughter in their arms Their nanny mouths, their tentacles To feed their twisted lusks Persons plan to take your daughter into their arms Tentacles!
Mouths Tentacles!
Lost!
Tentacles!
Yes!
Hermitage, Hermitage!
Hermitage, Hermitage!
Prudence has to marry Wilbur for his older brother!
He's a monster!
Then my boys will have your daughter in their evil clutches!
Evil clutches!
They'll cut to her soul and feast upon her naked body!
Naked body!
Then upon the hill the boys will call upon their fathers!
He's a monster!
Shhhhhhhhhh!
When Prudence marries my sweet son, the horror will start.
She'll live about three weeks.
Cause when three weeks are off, he'll take her straight upstairs.
The tentacles will uncurve.
And this will give your prudence, this will give your prudence.
Ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha ha!
That's what will happen when she marries my sweet Wilbur.
Wilbur!
Merciful heavens, what an awful dream!
We should have known there was something wrong with Wilbur.
He comes from the more decadent side of the Wakely family.
Yes, that and the strange lumps under his clothing.
Well, ordinarily I put no stock in dreams.
But if my grandmother Prudence came all the way back from the dead to tell us to avoid Wilbur Wakely, then I think we ought to pay attention.
Me too.
If Grandma Prudence said, knock it off, knock it off, it's Herbert Crue will wed, he's a prof. She'll never have to die or even say goodbye with her Rihanna Mator.
To Wilbur I'm averse.
Always thought he was off.
His brother's even worse.
And their father's no scoff.
Our worries are addressed.
She'll marry Herbert West, the great Rihanna Mator.
Now I've convinced you that I have completely lost my mind.
I'll wind up the show with a little closing chat.
H.P. Lovecraft envisioned a world where human beings were under constant existential threat from dark forces, and in Lovecraft's case, he always made it clear that what he meant by that were white people.
The sane and ordered and prosperous white world was always about to be overrun, Not only by dark gods from the past, but by the hordes of mud races coming into North America from the cesspools of the Third World.
Evil was almost always an attribute of those who dabbled in forbidden things like race mixing, which filled Lovecraft with horror, as he demonstrated in his stories like Arthur German and Pickman's Model, among many other examples.
Like I said earlier, I know most of you don't get all this Lovecraft stuff and you think Harold is just being eccentric for Halloween.
But the fact is that a case can be made for viewing Lovecraft as a prophetic observer of what has happened in the almost 80 years since his death.
In Lovecraft's world, sanity and reality and normalcy is a very fragile thing indeed, as it is today.
Now you guys do understand, don't you, that every morning in this country and throughout the world, millions of politicians and political functionaries and bureaucrats and media people and bankers and just ordinary people, down to lowly office workers and cubicle dwellers, Wake up, they grab a McMuffin or something for breakfast on the way to work,
and then they sit down at desks for a full day's work, sometimes quite a long day's work, lasting until late into the night, doing unspeakable and horrible things to white people, to white children, to the elderly.
It's what they do for a living.
It's their career.
Hurting white people.
Robbing white people.
Degrading and insulting white people.
Torturing white people in the prison industrial complex and the jails.
Taking white people's homes away from them and giving those homes to niggers and third-world immigrants instead.
Getting white children to commit filthy acts of sexual perversion or conditioning their minds so that they will do so later in life.
Doing incalculable and infinite harm to us in every way.
Almost always, these people who make whole careers out of doing us harm are paid huge salaries and given medical insurance and other benefits drawn from our tax dollars.
Millions of people every day devote themselves to a worldwide task of enslaving white people, murdering white people, and making sure that we disappear from the face of the earth altogether in another century or so.
Those of us who are into Lovecraft spotted the similarity a long time ago.
With his prophetic gift, HPL spotted what was coming but lacked the frame of reference to put it into more concrete terms, so he wrote short stories about monsters who were coming to kill us all.
Yes, Virginia, the dark gods exist, and they are indeed old.
Probably the oldest continually existing culture in human history.
But they don't have tentacles coming out of their faces, although there are quite a few rubbery hooked noses.
Probocidian, I believe, is the term Lovecraft used.
Plus, for those of us who can still read a block of text, it's great fiction, in its own way the last of the old 19th century style, that gave us Dickens and Dostoevsky and supernatural writers of Lovecraft's own school like Sheridan Lofanu and M.R. James.
And as horrible as things are today, there's still nothing like a good Lovecraft story to take you away from here, and back into a world where things were sane and normal and the good guys usually won.
Anyway, for now, 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, Sarsha Andaban.
Freedom.
Well if he ever goes back into Woodi Swann where you better not go at night There's things out there in the middle of them woods that make a strong man die for pride Things are
crawling, things are blind, things creep around on the ground And they say the ghost of Lucius Clay gets up and he walks around But I couldn't believe it, I just had to find out for myself And I couldn't conceive
it, cause I never would listen to nobody else And I couldn't believe it, I just had to find out for myself There's some things in this world you just can't explain The old man lived in the Wooli Swann way back in Moogar Woods He never did do a lot of harm in the world but he never did do no good People didn't think too much of
him, they all thought he acted funny The old man didn't care about people anyway, all he cared about was his money He stuff it all down into mason jars and he can bury it all around
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