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March 17, 2016 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
01:02:08
20160317_rfn
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Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so.
Hush your vocal, hush and listen, and his cheeks were all aglow.
I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon, for the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, Or 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, right the north to you and me.
One more roar for signal, token whistle, out the marching tune, Or your bike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, Which arrived upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon.
Out from many a mud-walled cabin eyes were watching through the night, Many a manly chest was throbbing for the blessed warning light.
Wars passed along the valleys like the man she's lonely crew, And the cows and blades were flashing at the rising of the moon.
Out from many a man she's lonely crew, And the cows and blades were flashing at the rising of the moon.
Out from many a man she's lonely crew, And the cows and blades were flashing at the rising of the moon.
It's Lala Podrick, St. Patrick's Day, March 17th, 2016.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
Okay, a couple of housekeeping topics to start off with.
As those of you on the Northwest Revolution email list are aware, we're going to have another call-in show on Thursday, the officially assigned topic being, once more, the campaign of Donald Trump, although these shows tend to wander in almost any direction.
Now, I want to clarify something that I said some months ago on this program regarding these call-in shows, which appears to have caused some disturbance and perturbation and botheration among some of you.
Please bear with me here.
I suspect this one is going to have me wandering all over the show before I'm done, but there is a point.
I was going over some of the reservations I had about the call-ins, which developed over the summer, based not just on my own impressions, but on feedback I got from listeners.
One of these reservations was that after about four or five of these shows, even when we were able to get a sufficient number of people calling in, the callers consisted largely of the more elderly men among us, men of my generation and Don's in their late 50s and their 60s.
And the overall effect was that of a bunch of old men sitting around on the porch of the local country store chewing tobacco or sitting around inside around the wood stove with a cracker barrel and spitting on the floor and yakking and bitching and moaning about how in my day, sonny, we all walked around with onions tied to our belts or other Grandpa Simpson-ish type stuff.
The result is that some of the older guys seem to have gotten the impression that I don't want them to call, and no, that's not it.
But we do now have to take a little more care in what we present to the public, and we do have to consider how that presentation looks to both our friends and our enemies.
Let me run this down for you.
As I'm sure we all remember, last June a kid named Dylan Roof went nutso with a gun in Charleston, South Carolina.
In his long and rambling manifesto, he mentioned the Northwest Front in a negative way, as something he disagreed with, which fact made absolutely no difference at all to the subsequent hysterical media coverage.
Now, the result of that mention was that the Northwest Front, our website, the Thoughtcrime blog, and this podcast all came under intensive scrutiny from the ultra-left loon media such as The Guardian, which I remember from my time in the UK as an actual newspaper I used to read.
It was Politico.com, The Stranger here in Seattle, and other sites that wrote multifarious hit pieces on myself and the party.
One of them did us the honor of referring to the Northwest Front as, quote, the worst racists in America, unquote.
Quite an accolade.
But besides feeding our egos, these journalistic pieces by and large had no effect at all, good or bad, because the type of people we want to recruit to the Northwest Front simply don't read these websites.
Like everything else in American society, these days one's choice of news, sources, and online reading is now completely polarized, part of the ongoing complete politicization of society, which is a characteristic of totalitarian states such as the U.S. is becoming.
It's true that during the Dylann Roof episode, we got an immense increase in the number of hits on the Northwestfront.org website off the Night of the Charleston Vespers, but it was almost all from niggers and lefty loons, so the whole episode did us virtually no good at all.
And this is one of the reasons why, despite what you may read in Salon Magazine, I am not trying to incite incidents of individual direct action for change.
Because the stories of people like Joseph Stack and Dylan Roof and a dozen others demonstrate very clearly that what the old anarchists used to refer to as the propaganda of the deed doesn't work for us.
Americans don't do symbolism, as the Bundy brothers and about 15 other white people in Oregon just found out.
We watch our electronic screens, and when we get bored, we change the channel.
But ever since Dylann Roof called down the Spirit in that church in Charleston, our web presence has been under surveillance by the enemy, by which I mean the left loon media as well as the usual secret police organs.
I know because every now and then some of them will still try to heckle me or draw me out in various ways, usually trying to track down and identify local people around the Northwest.
Odd how, where these people are concerned, somehow I'm never good enough for an interview or a quote.
It's always got to be someone who can be targeted for victimization.
And if they can't find somebody who they think is vulnerable to victimization, then they're not interested.
I think I've got a couple other IP addresses spotted on the stat counter.
And I got some requests for comment back in January when the Bundys were running around waving their semi-autos in the air for the cameras.
So the Froot Loops are definitely still around, and they're paying attention.
From now on, anything I upload to the northwestfront.org site is definitely for the record and will be torn to pieces by these people if they think they see anything that can be used against the white people and especially the white males that they fear and hate so much.
This is one of the reasons why I'm trying to be a little bit careful what I say on here about Donald Trump.
Now this gets back to the Grandpa Simpson thing.
Those of you who follow the ins and outs of the enemy's propaganda line through sites like Salon or the Hufflepuff or Daily Beast or Politico know that their official line is that all conservatives, Republicans, Libertarians, and in general anyone who opposes their official left loon line are among other things, and I paraphrase, nothing but a bunch of old white guys bitching and moaning and wringing their hands because they don't run the world anymore.
Or words to that effect.
Now, there is just enough truth in this to hurt.
Yeah, I admit a lot of our internet and other propaganda outreach has a distinct senior citizen feel to it, and I can see that it doesn't do much good in reaching our younger people.
It's not couched in language that they can understand, and believe me, a man of 62 like me needs some kind of translator to communicate with a 17-year-old, which is one reason I do keep up with some aspects of official pop and youth culture.
I need to speak the dialect.
The simple and undeniable fact is that white nationalism and the so-called alt-right is almost overwhelmingly male and has a preponderance of middle-aged and elderly men involved.
Don Black is my age and is in very poor health.
Double Diamond is 65, Tom Robb is 70, Duck Fields is over 80, so forth and so on.
We do have a younger generation, people like Matt Heimbach and some others.
But the fact is that basically, young people as a rule, employed or not, have better things to do than hang around the stove in the general store and bitch and moan about the world.
Or call in here and bitch and moan.
I get that.
Matt Heimbach's a good example.
He was really hot to trot there for a while, but then he got married and had a child, and now he has hostages to fortune, which the enemy can use against him.
Yes, I know Matt's still active.
He was doing some stuff at a Trump rally a while back, but I will be very interested to see how long he can continue to mix the two.
It never worked worth a damn for me.
Now, the reason for this is simple.
As with all revolutions, the people who are getting the worst screwed by the existing power structure are the ones who are primarily attracted to movements or forums that promote dissent.
And in the case of Obama's America, that means white males over 40. There are those who, over the past seven years, have referred to the Obama Depression as the man-cession, because white males over 40 years of age were so crushingly affected and destroyed.
At one stage, it was estimated that one-third of the 2008 workforce in that demographic is now unemployed, more or less permanently, and for all I know, that statistic may still be valid.
Virtually every white man in that demographic I know, and I know a lot, is either unemployed or grossly underemployed at nothing like the salary or professional level he should be at, given his skills and experience.
This does not mean that other white people have it any easier in Obama's America.
Far from it.
Young white boys come out of college with at least $50,000 in student loan debt for some degree in English literature or political science, which is as useless as tits on a bull.
They end up living in their parents' basement and delivering pizzas or doing the morning shape-up at labor-ready like I used to have to do, and all of a sudden they turn around and they're in their 30s and they're still in the basement and they haven't been able to start their lives yet.
Now, white girls, I think, only they might disagree, Have it somewhat better economically because almost all office and administrative jobs are done either by women or by passive homosexuals and liberal pajama boys who are deemed to be quote-unquote non-threatening in an office environment.
I used to have that one thrown at me by the little girls at the temp agency back in the 80s and 90s.
These guys get to dress up in the pastel shirts and wrap that goddamn piece of cloth around their necks and drink a lot of watery coffee and eat a lot of yogurt in some Art Deco break room.
That's their white-collar status.
Anyway, girls don't seem to have much trouble getting some cubicle gig, especially if they've got a black or brown skin.
Plus, unless they're openly psychotic and turning butt-naked flips on the breakroom table, women can always get a government job via the Democratic Party, working in some bureaucracy's cube farm.
So, these girls get to dress for success every day and pretend they've got careers instead of jobs.
They're not headed for success and a living wage any more than their white boyfriends and brothers are, but working in a clean, air-conditioned environment and wearing fancy clothes in the nice break room give women that necessary white-collar ambiance so that, like their male counterparts, they don't realize that they're being screwed by America until they're in their early 40s as well, and their biological clock has run out, so screw it!
No point in bothering with marriage or kids now.
Might as well just keep on trying to climb that corporate ladder and go home to your overpriced condo and your cat every night.
Okay, look, I know this sounds like I really am doing a Grandpa Simpson and wandering way off the subject.
Now, what I'm getting at here is that regardless of the true situation out here in Hockey Land, we don't want to admit some of this stuff in public.
We don't want to validate the left loon's stereotypes about us.
All white people are getting screwed to the wall by Obama and the Democrats and the liberals.
Hell, we're being run out of existence.
We are the victims of genocide.
It's just that some of us are more clear on what's happening to us than others because of our age and experience, and the result is that men in the older demographic tend to speak up more and do so more articulately than some 18-year-old kid who went to a public school who probably has never read an actual physical book in his life.
And who can barely string two sentences together in the English language?
Now, be that as it may, I really would like to get that kid on the call-in show, even if half of what he says has to be censored out because he sounds like Bart Simpson as opposed to my grandpa.
I would love to hear from some of these dozens of women that I know we have on our list who realize just how badly they're being hurt by America.
As really bad as this sounds, In order not to confirm the left loon's stereotypes, we need to have some, well, diversity in our white demographic.
I am not telling you old guys not to call.
I am asking our younger guys and the ladies to call.
Beginning Thursday night, March 17th, 5 p.m., Pacific Daylight Time.
We're about to die, 18 wheels are broken.
Are we going to do what they say can't be done?
We've got a long way to go.
Any short time to get there, I'm best found just like a band and run.
If you put hard on the belt, some will remind them breaks.
Let it all hang out cause we gotta run the band.
Greetings, comrades.
This is the trucker coming at you from now Utah.
I was up there in Idaho when I recorded my previous segment.
But this is some alternative thoughts for your prospective migration and housing needs.
If you happen to have an RV or you can pick a reasonable RV up at a reasonable price, that might be an option for you.
That would give you some place to sleep on your trip out here.
And somewhere to stay in, because a lot of mobile home parks have RV sections that space you can rent, so that might be an option.
Something else I've seen more of the hippy-dippy types do, they pick up an old school bus and renovate it.
What you can do is take all the seats out, or most of the seats out, have it in the back area, make that a storage area for what goods you are going to bring out with you, and make a living area right behind the driver's area, and give you some place to sleep.
On your migration out here.
And also give you some place to live out of while you're looking for housing out here.
As far as other types of housing out here, recently I've seen an outfit called Arch Cabins.
I think it's archcabins.com.
They're a place out of, I think it's New Mexico, but they've got dealers up here in the northwest that their cabins started about.
Granted, this is just for the show.
You have to go and finish the interior off yourself, I believe.
Put whatever walls, cabinetry, and other items.
But they started at about $5,000.
So you can go and pick up a...
Plot of land to go and plop the thing down.
Have your arched cabin set up and finish off the interior however elaborate or sparse you want it to be.
So that's a thought for you.
Other ways to go and get your goods out here.
You could pick up a shipping container for like about $1,500 to $2,500.
You could probably get about a two-bedroom unit in a 20-foot shipping container, I believe.
And you could either have it brought out by truck or I think a more cost-effective way would be have it go by rail.
They go and drop it off in place and you load it up and throw whatever locks and seals you want on it.
And get it to the same place.
Should be able to deposit it at the railhead and load it on a railcar.
We do have railroads out here in the Northwest, so hey, there you go.
You could just have it shipped out here, and you wouldn't have to worry about hauling your goods out here.
You'd end up having them delivered to you.
It beats a moving company if you're willing to put in the extra elbow grease to pack everything up and load it in your own shipping container.
I think there'll be less chance of a wayward truck driver.
I've seen quite a few of the individuals running shipping containers tend to get in a little bit of a hurry and go around corners too fast, and they are a little bit more top-heavy than the regular trailers, and they...
Follow the laws of gravity in motion and fall over, trucking all.
So I think you'd have a less chance of that happening by rail.
Not knocking the truck drivers.
I know I'm one of them, but I've seen way too many of them going and driving at not safe speeds and dumping whatever cargo they have all over the road.
So, yeah, you can have accidents on the rail also, but they're, you know...
I don't know.
I think it might be a little bit safer, in my opinion, to have the shipping container and go by rail.
Probably more cost-effective also.
Okay.
Well, this is it for this little segment of the road here, so have a safe one, comrades.
Hope to see you out here on the road making your scouting and migration trips.
Stay safe and hope to see you out here in the homeland soon.
We're going to do what they say can't be done.
We've got We've got a long way to go.
Got a short time to get there.
I'm crisp, I'm just watch a bandit run.
I'm crisp, I'm just watch a bandit run.
And to kick off our selection of Irish music for St. Patrick's Day, we'll start with a non-Irish musician.
This is Steve Earle.
Good evening, comrades.
Tonight I'm going to discuss a book by John Muir called First Summer in the Sahara.
This book is something that I'm doing because of a request that was made.
I have to admit it really doesn't relate to the show per se, but it is very much a classic book that might well encourage travel westward, I would suppose.
I also decided it would be a nice respite during such a contentious election season that we all seem to be getting rather caught up in.
This book was written apparently in 1911, but it does appear that Muir was most active in the 1870s.
Now, in this case, the naturalist was asked to follow a sheep herding expedition into the Sierra Mountains.
During the dry season, when they really have to move the sheep up into a place that would have some greenery.
So during this time, Muir is allowed to sketch and write, and the work produced is very much of a Whitman, Thoreau literary tradition.
In this piece, native species are compared to the sheep, and by comparison, the native species are considered clean, purposeful, and clever.
Muir creates pencil drawings and sketches which do a wonderful job of showing the vistas.
Muir expresses a desire to be a servant of servants in the high mountains.
He rejoices in the various nature that he sees.
He finds many types of lilies growing wild, and he marvels at the fire-resilient shrubs.
Among the deer, the azalea and incense cedar, Muir critiques those who care only for material gain, which is something he attributes especially to many of the professional shepherds that were around in California at that time.
Muir delights in the occurrence of skylight caves with trees and ponds.
We really can visualize the large ferns and the waterfalls.
The Song of the White Water and the Twining Rosy Lilies.
We tend to meet the natives in this book, a group of Indians called the Digger Indians.
We pass the abandoned gold mines, being overtaken once again with wildlife.
As Murr moves up the mountain, he finds beautiful meadows with rich volcanic soil, hazels, dogwood, wild rose.
But he especially notes the blue genton.
Muir marvels at the mountain pines that have broken but have regrew straight and tall once more from out of the break.
It's really quite an amazing thing that they can do.
Now, the writer very much wishes that he could stay in the Sierra to learn all of its lessons, and Muir accepts the mountains even with avalanches and earthquakes.
Now, at one point...
The author very much rejoices in seeing a cinnamon bear.
Now, as the season matures, the bears do become more aggressive, and they do end up taking a few sheep, although most of the sheep do make it back down the valley later on.
Now, one of the things that Muir very much looks forward to is when he approaches the Cathedral Peak.
Here he finds meadows of brown partridge.
He also ends up meeting with a former professor who's also out traveling.
After intuiting the professor would be nearby, because he seems to be going into perhaps a meditative state where he's picking up on these energies or vibrations.
It's really quite amazing.
And at long last, Muir finds a cassipi bloom, which is a small, white, bell-shaped flower.
Now, Muir is grateful to have visited the Holy Mountains, and he really views everything as a sermon, and he tends to merge naturalism with some sense of transcendent religion.
This book has a youthful enthusiasm, which is very much its charm.
This is very much a classic book.
It's really quite a lovely book, and that's why I agreed to discuss it, despite its, as I say, perhaps its lack of relevance to this show.
Now, another book that I would like to bring up in conjunction with First Summer in the Sierra was another book by the name of Gentle Conquest by James Reveal.
This is a book that I acquired some years back.
Botanical illustrations that go into these various plants of the New World.
A lot of the plants are Eastern, but as you get to the back of the book, it will also get into some of the California plants, particularly the Douglas and Noble firs, and also the rose-colored twining lily that he mentions.
So you'll get the sense of a plant illustration around that era and before that time, which is a very interesting occupation.
There are societies that deal with that, such as the American Society of Botanical Artists.
So I think that's an interesting excursion, an interesting respite.
So I hope you enjoyed this review, and hail victory, comrades.
Thank you.
It's been almost two months now since Robert Lavoie Finnecombe was murdered by the FBI, shot down in the snow.
Evidence is now coming to light, which casts doubt on the official version of Finnecombe's murder, as well it might, since in these cases one can usually assume that the official government version of anything is horse dung.
Now the question now is a matter of taste, though, one we're probably going to have to deal with again in the future.
After the American secret police murder somebody, How long a period of respectful silence and sober reflection do we allow ourselves before I can get back to mocking the stupid pissants in my regular RFN feature, or Who Guards the Guardians?
Well, too soon or not, this week I'm going to do it anyway.
This time we're going to take a look at the service that's kind of the red-headed stepchild of all the others in our great alphabet soup of secret police agencies.
The United States Marshals Service.
Come on down.
There's a man who leads a life of danger.
Everyone he meets, he stays a stranger.
Read every move he makes, another chance he takes.
Odds are he won't live to see tomorrow.
Secret Asian Man, Secret Asian Man, they're giving you a number and taking away your name.
When you think of United States Marshals, you usually think of Matt Dillon if you're my age and Tommy Lee Jones if you're somewhat younger.
Or if you're younger still, you think of that character Raylan Givens on Justified.
You know, the strong, silent cowboy hat type with a big gun on his hip that he can fire once and six-point bad guys and black hats drop dead, that kind of Hollywood crap.
It's an old stereotype going back to the 1920s in silent films, but there's almost no resemblance at all between a Hollywood U.S. Marshal and what the service does in real life, which is basically escorting prisoners in transit and serving papers for the federal court system.
Basically, right now, the Marshals are jailers and process servers.
I understand that even their suits aren't anywhere as nice as the FBI and Secret Service ensembles, although the top of the heap here is NSA.
I understand that they like to flaunt their status by showing up to meetings like it's casual Friday, wearing jeans and sweats and Hawaiian shirts.
They're saying, see, see, our agency has such big juju that our guys don't even have to knot that goddamn piece of cloth around their necks.
U.S. Marshals dress like they buy off the rack at J.C. Penney.
In real life, the Marshals' service have become basically the grunt workers of the whole secret police apparatus, kind of the Feeb equivalent of janitors or garbage men.
The Marshals schlep all the nasty or really boring and tedious stuff that none of the other agencies want to touch.
So far as I know, they don't even get to spy on people much.
Whereas other agencies have a lot of quote-unquote analyst jobs that let their operatives sit in a cubicle all day with a Starbucks or a Slurpee and spy on people's computers or listen to their conversations, the Marshals are too busy out on the road walking and driving and in planes and trains and buses and whatnot, plus filling out all kinds of forms.
Apparently that's one of their major complaints.
For various reasons, the Marshals have got mountains more paperwork than even the FBI.
And with the lowest budget of all the alphabet soup agencies, they can never get enough clerical help to keep it up.
So, even more so than other federal cops, a large part of a marshal's workday consists of so-called administrative duties that have nothing at all to do with law enforcement, which, considering the kind of laws they enforce, is probably to the good.
But now the marshals have their latest gig, which is working as hired muscle loan collectors for the biggest loan shark of them all, Uncle Sam himself.
About a month ago, Fox News reported, and I quote, Believe it or not, the U.S. Marshals Service in Houston, Texas, is arresting people for not paying their outstanding federal student loans.
Paul Aker, who, by the way, according to his photo, is a Negroid, says that he was arrested at his home last week for a $1,500 federal student loan he received in 1987.
He says seven deputy U.S. Marshals showed up at his home with automatic weapons and took him to federal court where he had to sign a payment plan for the 29-year-old school loan.
Congressman Eugene Green says the federal government is now using private debt collectors to go after those who owe student loans.
Green says as a result those attorneys and debt collectors are getting judgments in federal court and asking judges to use the U.S. Marshals Service to arrest those who have failed to pay their federal student loans.
Our reliable source within the U.S. Marshals Service says that Acre isn't the first and won't be the last.
They have to serve anywhere from 1,200 to 1,500 warrants for people who have failed to pay their student loans.
And that apparently is just for the Houston area.
Wow!
Seven U.S. Marshals with machine guns to collect a $1,500 debt that's 29 years old off a nigger.
Yeah, boys, that's real Raylan Givens material there.
Oh, come on, how can you assholes look yourself in the mirror every morning?
That's disgraceful.
Why the hell don't you just resign and go to some city and join the force where you can be a real cop and who knows, maybe even run into somebody on the street who might be a real criminal you can go up against.
But that's what you feds spend your careers trying to avoid.
So instead, you're chasing niggers over 30-year-old petty debts that everybody knows they're never going to pay.
People, the United States government is just another gang, and its law enforcement agencies are just gangsters.
There is no legitimacy or moral authority left in any of them.
They're just leg breakers for Big Boss Barry Obama.
Far from being upholders of truth, justice in the American way, and all that cack, these people are just juice collectors, and in Lavoie Finnegan's case, hit men with badges.
Fear them, yes.
They've given the American people cause for fear.
But neither they nor the regime they serve deserve an ounce of respect.
The nigger and Mexican agents, okay, nobody expects anything different from third worlders, but the white agents are a disgrace to humanity.
they ought to know better.
Secret Asian Man Secret Asian Man They've given you a number Are they taking away your name?
Secret Asian Man Thank you.
Right, once again we've got a St. Patrick's Day number from a non-Irishman.
This is the Scots folk singer Dick Govan with a song for Ireland.
Walking all the day By
tall, tough sweat falcons build their nests Silver when they fly They know the call of freedom in their breasts Saw blackheads against the sky With twisted rocks that
run to the sea
my land talking all the day with true friends who try to make you stay telling jokes and
and use and sing songs to pass the time away We watch the Galway salmon run like silver darting dancing in the sun Living on your western shore saw
summer sunset asked for more stood by your Atlantic sea and sang a song for Ireland Drinking and
all the day and old pups where fiddlers love to play someone touched the ball and he played a real wedge since a grand
I stood on Dingle Beach and cast in wild foam We found Atlantic Pass Living on your western shore Saw summers and
sets, asked for more I stood by your Atlantic Sea And sang a song for Ireland Dreaming in the night
I saw a land where no one had to fight.
But waking in your dawn, I saw you cry in the morning light.
While lying where the falcons fly They twist and turn on your air blue sky Living on your western shore Saw summer
sunsets, asked for more Stood by your Atlantic sea And sang a song for Ireland
So, let's get back to that.
Now, this is going to fall into the leadership instruction category.
I'm assuming that a large percentage of the 4,000 to 5,000 people who will hear this episode of Radio Free Northwest are future leaders of the Northwest Republic.
And since no one wants to actually come here and learn these things from me firsthand, I need to leave you guys at least something vaguely resembling a set of instructions so as many of you as possible will be able to do this job for yourselves when you finally get your act together.
I've had several recurrences this week of what I suppose you might call certain standard memes or memes, however you pronounce that, themes, issues, basically stuff that has been coming up in one very similar form or the other time after time for years, hell, decades.
Occasionally, I respond to this perennial question or issue, but it's usually in public rather than engage with some anonymous individual because always, always...
Always remember the first cardinal rule about the internet that we have to use for most of our communications.
You never know who you are talking to.
You never know what this person's real identity or real agenda is, whose water they're carrying, and who is signing their checks.
So just as if you were out on the street, it's not a good idea to go up to strangers and begin long, intimate conversations without having some idea as to who the hell you're talking to.
So, let me take a few minutes to go over this again today.
At least once a month, at least, I get an email or a contact through a website from some unknown individual who I suspect is one of a small circle of internet cognitive dissonance operatives, or CDOs, which is a polite word for professional paid trolls hired by various anti-white outfits, either governmental or NGOs, to mess with us on the internet.
Which, I say again, is by necessity where most of our communication takes place.
It is the only medium of mass communication we have, and the enemy hates and fears it.
Another reason I often suspect it's organized is that these contact emails all seem to be written from the same template or script.
Basically, it runs something like, Hi, my name is so-and-so, and I'm really impressed with your podcasts and your website.
And I really want to join and support the Northwest Front and send you a donation.
They always dangle that carrot under my nose.
But I have this teensy little problem, Harold.
I'm ashamed to admit that I'm one-eighth or one-sixteenth non-white.
Now, usually they say Cherokee Indian.
Now, for some reason, Cherokees are thought to be the top dogs of the Indian world by white people.
Although I'm sure the Apaches and the Navajos and the Lakotas would have something to say about that.
I think this latest guy said he was part Seminole, which seems to be gaining in popularity.
Sometimes it's Filipino or Mexican Mestizo.
Every now and then I get contacts from full-blood Asians who want to join, and they're sincere because they loathe niggers just as badly as we do.
Hell, everybody despises niggers, even other niggers.
I've even gotten occasional emails from black Africans.
Telling me how much they hold American and Caribbean blacks in contempt.
I have never gotten any of these weird letters or emails from people claiming that they want to join and support the ENF, but they're part nigger.
Or part Jew, oddly enough, although that's happened in other groups.
The name Jordan Golub springs to mind.
So, getting back to these emails and questions that I get from these total strangers.
Anyway, given my just teeny little smidgen of non-white blood, Harold, Would I be welcome in the Northwest Front?
For some reason, that's always how it's phrased.
Would I be welcome?
It must be in the boilerplate script that these people are being given by whoever's doing this.
Now, you'd have to be sitting where I'm sitting with my movement background to fully get this and to fully understand why it is so obviously a troll.
Essentially, what these people are trying to do is to get me to make some kind of conversation with a completely anonymous individual on the internet, which is something I try to avoid doing until I have some assurance that I'm talking to a real person and not the Holy Rabbi Hyman Hebelbaum from Temple Schmokel playing with his computer for the ADL.
Whoever is behind this is sufficiently familiar with our many little eccentricities and our wee little slice of life.
To know that one of the issues we like to glom onto and howl and scream and jibber and jive and whirl like a dervish over is the question of who is white?
It's one of those issues that's kind of like how many stormtroopers can dance on the head of a pen.
It's one of those questions that our many obsessive personalities get hold of and they're like a dog with a bone.
And even when it's picked completely clean, they just won't drop it and move on.
They just sit there chewing and chewing and growling at anybody who tries to take it away from them.
That and religion.
I've always been suspicious when somebody starts hanging around our periphery and he claims to be down with the group's goals and wants to be real help with the 14 words or so he says, but he just cannot or will not shut up about religion.
Not so much Christians or Christian identity, although we've had problems with them at times as well, for sure.
But people, seemingly always younger men, who are violently and abusively anti-Christian and who will not leave it alone, who keep trying to pick at it like a scab.
I always figured that a lot of these guys are still pissed off at their parents for not letting them watch TV or play video games on Sunday morning and making them get dressed up in horrible, uncomfortable clothes and hard shoes and go to church and Sunday school and be bored out of their skull.
I know that damn near turned me against religion, but persistent hatred of religion to the point where it replaces love of race is so obviously counterproductive and a distraction from the 14 words that I take Willful and deliberate refusal to be quiet about religion and stop using it to destroy what thin strands of unity and comradeship our tiny little groups manage to build among one another,
I take that as prima facie evidence that the person who keeps running his mouth about it is a ringer of some kind.
I've given the standard answer on that before on this show, and that is that the NF is a movement of blood rather than faith, so we'll leave it at that.
Once more, dragging myself back to the topic at hand, which is these racially dubious people wanting to know, will you admit me to your white supremacist group with my little drop of engine blood or whatever the hell it is?
Anyway, they're clearly trying to get me to make some statement or assertion that they can use against me to claim that we admit Mexicans or gooks or Michelins or whatever.
My impression is that due to the similarity of these apparently scripted emails, it's largely a gull or a cognitive dissonance op.
I do think that occasionally we hear this from some bona fide people who were told by their grandma that they had a Cherokee in the woodpile somewhere, although nobody seems to quite know where.
Now, for some reason, this pathology has always been common in the South, especially that Cherokee business.
Southern people seem to have some kind of delusions of squalor or guilt complex or something of the kind that makes them tell others that they've got Indian blood in them.
But when you look at them, you can tell it simply isn't true.
Now, I remember our big Indian rights leader from the 1980s back in North Carolina, a jackass named Eddie Hatcher, who ended up dying of AIDS in prison for holding the Lumberton newspaper hostage.
He claimed to be a Tuscarora, which is quite a trick, because the Tuscarora in North Carolina had been extinct since 1712.
Anyway, Hatcher's birth certificate shows he was as white as I am.
Kind of a 1980s Rachel Dolezal, except in that time and place, Indians were the minority of choice for self-hating white loons.
Okay, let me lay this on you really quick for those of you who have legitimate questions along this line, although I repeat that this is not a fruitful line of inquiry and we do not need to allow this to distract us from what little practical work we are doing.
Who is white?
You know who is white unless your brain has been so badly damaged by political correctness that you think it's a non-existent quote-unquote social construct like the lefty loons have taught you to.
And if your head is that fucked up, you're most likely not listening to this show in the first place.
In my view, the best test is the 30-second test.
If within 30 seconds of first meeting someone there is any nagging doubt in your mind, skin a little too olive through pigmentation and obviously not through suntan, hair a little too thick or too black or curly verging on kinky, eyes muddy brown rather than hazel, Nose and lips and facial proportions just not right somehow?
Maybe a six-shaped nose and ragged, misshapen ears making your spidey sense tingle?
Now, if you get that during the first minute of acquaintance, you probably need to politely step back and take a longer and closer look before inviting this person home to dinner.
Although, let's be honest, people, in most cases where there is a touch of a tar brush in there, it's going to be...
On the first 30 seconds of acquaintance, there won't be any actual doubt.
The number of niggers who can actually quote-unquote pass is very, very, very tiny.
And frankly, if they're white enough to pass, then I don't think it's so much a case of a nigger passing as white.
It's a case of a self-deluded white idiot thinking he can pass as a nigger.
Anyway.
Like all species, us white folks are biologically hardwired to recognize in our own minds who is one of ours and who is one of theirs.
Just like those Google computer search algorithms last year that kept coming up with pictures of gorillas and orangutans instead of black people because the recognition points were the same.
Our brains are programmed by nature to spot those recognition points subconsciously and read monkey instead of man, read animal instead of human.
Read animal instead of human correctly, I might add.
As is so often the case, the politically correct version of all this just plain isn't true.
They really are higher primates and not homo sapiens.
This is part of who we are, and it goes back to all those hundreds of thousands of years in the caves and the forests where recognizing different kinds of animals and different humanoid species was a matter of life or death.
Failure to know the difference between your buddy Ugg from the next cave and those Neanderthal monsters hiding in the woods lying in wait at night meant a crushed skull from a club or a flint-tipped spear in the guts.
Basically, you got smart enough to know who was who or you died.
Or, if you don't like the 30-second test, there's always the old Christian identity blood-in-the-face test, i.e.
is a person capable of blushing?
If so, that means that the melanin content of the skin is sufficiently low to make such a person one of us.
And yes, I know that there are some very light-skinned Asians, especially upper-class Japanese and Korean women, whose skins are physically white.
I mean, really white, like a sheet.
But apparently, they don't blush.
Better yet, just don't worry about it.
And don't let anybody worry you into a tizzy about it.
If there's any doubt at all in your mind about someone okay, that may be instinct trying to tell you something, and I would advise stepping back.
But let's face it, how often do cases that marginal occur in real life and not on lifetime cable dramas or whatever?
In this, as in so much else, we need to learn to live in the real world, as crappy and imperfect and confused as that world is.
No St. Patrick's Day musical selection could really be complete without something in the ancient Irish language, the oldest continually existing Aryan tongue.
[background noise]
It's a long time to see you, you are a little bit tired.
You're a little bit tired, you're a little bit tired.
All your heart, I'm going to cry.
you Thank you.
as the essay were called in the early days, in order to protect his events from disruption and safeguard what remains of white people's access to the political process.
Well, it looks like my famous gift of prophecy is operating again.
This week there was indeed an increase in various negroid and left loon shenanigans with reference to the Trump campaign, including the cancellation of a Trump rally in Chicago and a very half-assed attempt by one left loon freak to jump onto the platform with Trump in Dayton, Ohio.
He wasn't carrying a weapon, and so despite some going overboard on Drudge and elsewhere, no, it wasn't an assassination attempt.
A white Trump supporter got videoed, elbowing some Black Lives Matter nigger in the face when the nigger pushed him.
So, needless to say, the white man was charged with assault by the police, lest they be accused of racism.
Turns out the guy was 72 years old, and so that really doesn't count.
He comes from the older generation, when there were white men instead of pale males.
What we need to see is young pale males of 19, 20, 23 or so, slugging Black Lives Matter niggas and winning.
You know, the generation where the politically correct social engineering against raising our hands to the dark-skinned beasts is supposed to be strongest and most comprehensive?
The pale pajama boys who are now lining up to vote for aging Jewish hippie Bernie Sanders, but who will obediently vote for the Hilda Beast once the democratic hierarchy explains to them what they're supposed to do.
Now, if a few pale males from that generation can beat that social engineering and psychological programming to the point where they will apply fist to nappy head and bubble lip and bust open the same, then we know that it's not hopeless, that the mind control can be overcome.
Then is when we will know that there is still at least a faint hope for us yet.
Now, at about the same time, something appeared on Twitter called the Lion Guard, which claimed to be from an individual with military experience who wanted to put together a defense force to protect Trump events from disruption and assault similar to what occurred in Chicago.
Four hours later, there is another hysterical tweet on the same account where this person claims that the Left Loons and Black Lives Matter Monkoids, or somebody, somehow tracked him down and sent him a photo of the front of his child's school, threatening to kill the child, and therefore this person was shutting down his Twitter account and fleeing into hiding.
After four hours...
I'm sorry, I just don't buy that.
That's just a little too melodramatic for my taste.
I think this is a hoax or a punk or some kind of sting run by the SPLC, if only to elicit violent pro-Trump tweets.
Now, the so-called Lion Guard is back on Twitter, but I'd advise extreme caution in dealing with it.
I frankly advise leaving it alone.
It just doesn't quite pass the sniff test to me.
A word to all of you about the internet.
Once again, I say to you, except in a small number of cases where you have physically, personally met the person involved, you do not know who you are dealing with on the net.
Also, by a process which the dictatorship no longer even bothers to deny, all electronic communication in this country is intercepted and archived.
Not read.
They've got nowhere near the necessary manpower to do that, but it's retained and it's there if any of them ever do want to read it.
Now, if anyone approaches you by email, but especially on social media, in any attempt to get you to join some kind of direct action resistance movement, disregard such contact, make no reply at all, and sever all contact with that account.
It is almost certainly some kind of police or NGO setup.
When the day comes, I will tell you this much.
It will not be set up or organized via social media where everybody, including the FBI and his dog, can watch and follow what's going on.
I mean, that's just common sense.
And on that cheery note, 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 2188, Bremerton, Washington, 98310, 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.
And we'll close out with what's become a kind of St. Paddy's Day tradition for us, with what's probably the best river dance-type Irish instrumental number I've ever played on here.
The song is called Farewell to Aaron, and it's from the Bothy Band After Hours album.
Thank you.
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