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Sept. 6, 2018 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
01:03:39
20180906_rfn
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Greetings from the Northwest homeland, comrades.
This is Andy Donner.
Now, as you can tell, we're about to have another RFN rerun, and I do apologize for that, but this one's actually important.
This week I was working on an RFN which had a theme of Q&A, since quite a few people have asked me some very interesting questions that really do deserve some answers, but, well, I did run out of time, and even so, there's a more interesting twist you should be aware of.
The first question I had intended to address wasn't really a question.
It was actually a story someone emailed in about Federals knocking on doors looking for people who are up to no good.
And by the by, don't you be up to no good?
No, really, I mean that.
This stuff can be real and can be very dangerous if done incorrectly.
This fellow didn't tell me where, and that's probably for the best, but the local Asatru community had several of their members get visits from the FBI because someone in their circle was behaving very badly and running their mouths, saying things that shouldn't be said, so on and so forth.
So no, I'm not kidding.
Don't be up to no good.
Don't even talk about being up to no good.
I've never had this happen to me, but it easily could have, and here's why.
A month to six weeks before my own homecoming, I made contact with a whole bunch of new white nationalists in my area, and later I was informed by one of them that the guy who appointed himself ringleader of that group was talking trash online about engaging in all sorts of bad acts, and that prompted the local fibbies to start running around and checking up on things.
The one truly reliable guy in that bunch gave me a phone call many months after I came home and told me what was going on and told me that I perhaps needed to expect a door knock or two from the Feds.
Now, it never materialized, and that's probably because this was ultimately a budget burner.
What I'm replaying today is an entire RFN episode about just this thing and how to avoid it.
Specifically, what I'm replaying is the episode where Harold tells the story of Matt Hale as well as the story of the Asheville Six for your edification.
Now, look, I know a rerun, again, isn't necessarily what you would all like.
I get that.
I understand.
I do.
And next week, I will have a much more laid-back episode dealing with some basic Q&A.
Do take my apologies with the assurance that, while I've almost got that done, it was taking more time than I had, and you deserve better than what I was going to produce if I had kind of just slept it off and half-assed it.
Talk to you next week, comrades.
Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so.
Hush, awokel, 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, right well known to you and me.
One word more for signal, token whistle of the marching jewel, For your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon, By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, For your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon.
It's March the 26th, 2015.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
Greetings from Seattle, comrades.
Andy Donner here.
From time to time, the party has the opportunity to repeat its stance on various matters of import.
Usually, this involves movement modernization or, perhaps, illegality.
Believe it or not, there have been instances where someone did something illegal and then contacted the party to tell us about it.
Outside of the genuinely stupid and useless thing they decided to go and do, there's also the problem of their being so utterly moronic enough to confess they did it over the internet, or any other monitored medium for that matter.
While nothing so severe has gone on lately, well, not to my personal knowledge, anyway, We've had another fun little incident this week, and it's the sort of thing I'm obligated to address for everyone's benefit.
In recent RFN episodes, Harold has brought up the issue of federal surveillance, both by an informant or otherwise, and there's a good reason for doing so.
For the record, I am not accusing anyone of being an informant, but I am addressing careless and reckless behavior which has caused untold amounts of pain and suffering and agony in the white nationalist movement's history, and all of it could have been avoided if, at any point in time, any one person involved would have exercised a minimal amount of judgment and realized something foolish was being said into a microphone or a chatroom.
If you all ask Harold nicely enough, he might just repeat the stories of the Asheville Six and Matt Hale to hammer this point home.
I'd tell you myself, but that would take way too long, and I'm not the right person to tell those stories anyway, since I wasn't technically involved in white nationalism when they happened.
Anyway, this last week, someone asked me a very unfortunate question over an electronic medium.
I know for a fact they meant nothing by it, and they genuinely wanted to know the answer to their question, but it was still a very, very bad question to have asked.
It boiled down to, when is the party going to make its move?
Yeah, that.
Since it's been brought up, I have to make the boilerplate disclaimer.
The Northwest Front is a legal political movement and does not break the law.
There is no intent to break the law.
There are no plans to break the law.
Period.
And really, I'm not just saying that either.
The first requirement for facing our enemies down is those mythical boots on the ground and some sort of functional revolutionary apparatus, the likes of which you, in all your infinite wisdom, have decided shall not exist.
Because of this, there simply are no plans.
As yet, it's not going to happen.
And that's the honest truth.
But back to the matter at hand.
If there were such plans, we wouldn't discuss them with outlanders, and we especially wouldn't discuss them over electronic media of any sort for reasons which should be perfectly obvious.
Someone asking us these questions is either stupid, the likes of which few people will ever be, or else they're trying to get record of some sort of very unfortunate statement on our part.
I bring up the stupid issue because even if these questions being asked aren't intended to entrap someone, that doesn't mean the discussion isn't being observed and documented.
If you're ever part of a conversation where someone is asking questions like this or making remarks about one illegal act or another, tell that damned fool to shut up after making it very clear none of what they're talking about is going to happen.
If they don't shut up, leave, without saying anything else, and take anyone you care about with you.
The types of acts in focus today aren't on anyone's radar, and at this point, discussing them isn't even on the radar.
Doing so is the last thing that needs to happen, and idly asking about them should be avoided just as much.
As with so many other things involving newer or younger white nationalists, the wrong thing can be done for innocent and even well-intentioned reasons.
Unfortunately, we can't usually tell with any certainty which is which.
After all, asking about certain subjects is a recipe for disaster either way and this means even someone unintentionally causing this problem is as much of a danger as someone deliberately trying to drum up a court case.
If it isn't obvious from my tone, we have to treat these people as such even if they're not aware of the problem they're causing.
The best thing to do in this case is to warn whoever it is and see how they act following the incident.
If they don't get the point, they're either so clueless that they're too dangerous to keep around, or they have some purpose in stirring this stuff up, and you definitely don't keep them around.
And I'm not kidding about asking Harold about the Asheville Six and Matt Hale.
You could all stand to hear the stories.
I'm sure at least a few of you know about Hale's situation, but the Asheville Six tale is actually more tragic, gut-wrenching, and educational.
If we're really lucky, he'll scrap what he's got planned for the rest of this episode and tell those stories instead.
Hail victory, comrades!
Okay, normally I don't talk about this kind of thing on here, since another one of our many bad habits in our wee little movement is endless post-mortems of our not very pleasant or edifying past, and we need to start fixing our attention firmly on the future in view of what the future holds for us if we don't get our act together.
In this case, though, Andy has asked me to comment on two prior incidents from the wild and woolly days of yesteryear, from the viewpoint of our apparently hard-wired lack of judgment, and I can see why this may be important, vitally so, in view of the fact that it may save lives, including some of yours, so listen up.
Now, first off, full disclosure, I never met Matt Hale personally, although I corresponded with him on and off beginning in the early 1990s.
I was always impressed with him personally, but his particular approach to white nationalism is one that I do not consider legitimate or appropriate, due to it being fruit of the poison tree, to borrow a legal term.
Hale is a follower of a certain guru from the old days, whom I did know personally, who was, shall we say, not as advertised.
I will not get into that any further.
Because that guru is dead, and as far as I am concerned, that particularly gubu chapter in our people's spasmodic attempts to resist genocide is closed.
I will say only that, as someone once wrote about the Parliamentary General Lord Thomas Fairfax, who fought under Oliver Cromwell during the English Civil War, Matt Hale was worthy of a better master and a juster cause.
None of that matters anyway, because whatever Hale's ideological idiosyncrasies, he has more than paid for them, and I consider him to be a genuine martyr of our people.
What was done to Matt Hale by this regime was and is an inexcusable act of revolting tyranny and a breach of human decency.
In other words, it is a typical example of the American experience.
In order to understand what happened in his case, the first thing we need to talk about is the behavior of an individual named Ben Smith, who was one of Hale's followers.
On the July 4th weekend of 1999, Smith loaded up his car with guns and ammo and went on a shooting spree across Illinois and Indiana, during which he wounded a number of Jews and non-whites and killed two, one of them a munkoid who was a former basketball coach at Northwestern University.
In doing so, Ben Smith crossed one of the society's red lines.
He laid his horrible pale hands on the sacred and revered institution of back-it-ball.
Basketball is the only thing on earth that niggers can do better than white people.
And as such, it is sacrosanct in America, and my personal theory is that what happened to Matt Hale had largely to do with the fact that Ben Smith defiled the great African-American pastime.
On July 4th, Smith was killed as the police closed in.
The cops later claimed that Smith shot himself.
Three times.
Twice in the head and once in the heart.
Yeah.
Just like J.W. Waters killed himself while playing Russian roulette.
With an automatic.
And no, I am not making that up.
The police in North Carolina actually stated that as the official version with a straight face.
And needless to say, since J.W. was a wicked evil white supremist, nobody in the media ever challenged them.
But that's another in the long list of my Grandpa Simpson stories from back in the day.
And before we leave the subject to Ben Smith, let me tell you one more time for the umpteen-thousandth time.
Guys, don't do this shit.
Whatever Smith thought he was accomplishing by going postal like that, what he actually accomplished was to get his friend and erstwhile fearless leader bunged up for forty years.
I do not ask any of you to fight or die for the Northwest American Republic, and if ever I do, the world will have become such a different place that one way or the other I won't be worried anymore about being arrested for words.
I do ask you to live and work for the Northwest American Republic because that's how we're going to win.
History being what it is, when the time comes to start pulling triggers, we will already have won.
We will just have to dot the I's and cross the T's with some lead.
Now, as I recall, and bear in mind all this was many years ago and I was not involved, nor did I know anybody close to Hale, so all this is second and third hand, but what seems to have happened is that somebody in the Illinois state government establishment appears to have acquired an obsession bordering on insanity with Matt Hale and the belief that Hale was in fact personally responsible for what Smith did, just as someone within the dictatorship seems to have developed an obsession bordering on insanity with Bill White.
Apparently, one summer day, Hale must have taken Smith aside and said to him, Hey, Ben, my man, how would you like to go on a big shooting spree and gun down a bunch of strangers and then blow your own brains out?
And Ben Smith must have replied, Wow, yeah, Matt, that would be really awesome, dude!
That was the working theory, anyway.
These shadowy Northwestern basketball fans in the Illinois political establishment then called on the FBI, who inserted an individual using the name of Tony Evola into Hale's circle as an informer.
Again, if memory serves, and it might not because, I repeat, I was not close to any of this, this character spent the next two years trying to inveigle and entrap Matt Hale into committing some kind of criminal act.
During this two years, he was paid a total of $50,000 by the FBI.
Your tax dollars in action, folks.
I'm going to keep this story trimmed down to the bare bones due to my lack of concrete firsthand or other reliable information, but Hale was arrested under the Patriot Act in January of 2003 for, as I understand it, Typing a single sentence into an AOL instant message chat room with the FBI informer Tony Evola, that sentence being, quote-unquote, I cannot have anything to do with this.
That one sentence got him another sentence, 40 years in prison.
Now, before I came on here tonight, I checked out the Fremant Hale website, and Hale now claims that he knew all along that Evola was a federal informer, and therefore would not have been so stupid as to conspire with him online to kill a federal judge, which is what they decided to paste on him.
In other words, assuming he is telling the truth, he knew that Evola was an evil man sent by other evil men in order to destroy him.
Evil men who were fully capable of doing so.
And he was chatting with him online anyway.
Hale is, among other things, a lawyer himself, so I assume that he would know the phrase res ipsa loquitur.
I will not comment any more on this case because, as it is, I am going to get a screeching storm of emails and blog comments from our movement peanut gallery for daring, yes, daring, to speak of Matt Hale in something less than tones of hushed and awed reverence.
Actually, I do have quite a bit of time for him.
If somehow he were to be released, I suspect that he's learned enough inside to become a true fighter for our people's freedom.
But that ain't going to happen.
I will simply repeat what I have said in the past.
Never, ever make the mistake of assuming that you are more clever than the FBI or other secret police agencies and that you can somehow play games with them.
You cannot.
And you are an imbecile if you think you can.
They have the power.
You do not.
I do not.
I am fully aware of the fact that they can destroy me any time they so desire.
And now that the National Defense Authorization Act of 2011 has given the dictator and his servants the power of extrajudicial execution, as it's called, that includes knocking on my door one day and shooting me dead when I open it.
I can see it now.
I'll ask him, do you have a warrant?
And one of the thugs will answer, no, but I got a gun.
Then blam.
Now, I do what I do because it has to be done, because somebody has to do it, and because I have what they call in the FBI a short tail.
No family, no friends, no money, no possessions, nothing that they can use to pressure me.
It's kind of my duty station in the movement.
I simply take the philosophy of do right and fear no one.
And one day I'll probably pay for it, but I'm not going to deliberately go out of my way to bring that day any nearer.
Okay, I'll get into the Asheville Six case, which I do have extensive first-hand knowledge of later on in this podcast, but now it's time for first music break.
This is a favorite song of one of our comrades here, and I think it's a significant one for us, because like the Mary Ellen Carter, we intend to make an entire race and civilization rise again.
This is Canada's greatest folk singer, the late Stan Rogers.
She went down last October in a pouring drive and rain The skipper he'd been drinking and the maid he felt no pain Two quotes to Three Mile Rock and she was dealt her mortal blow And the Mary Ellen Carter subtle blow There was just us five aboard her when she finally was awash We'd worked like hell to save her all heedless of the cost And the groan she gave as she went down,
It caused us to proclaim That the Mary Ellen Carter would rise again Music by Ben Thede Well, the owners wrote her off, not a nickel would they spend.
She gave plenty years of service, boys, then met her sorry end.
But insurance paid the loss to us, so let her rest below.
Then they laughed at us and said we had to go.
But we talked of her all winter, some days around the clock.
She's worth a quarter million, a-floating at the dock.
And with every jar that pipped the bar, we slowly would remake And make the merry other carter rise again.
Rise again, rise again.
Let her name not be lost to the knowledge of Mary.
Oh, those who loved her best and were with her till the end.
Who make the merry other carter rise again.
All spring now we've been with her on a barge lent by a friend.
Three dimes a day in a hard hat suit and twice I've had the band.
Thank God it's only sixty feet and the currents here are slow I'd never have the strength to go below But we patched her ends, stopped her men's dog, hatching portal down Put cables to her for a nap and girded her around Tomorrow noon we hit the air and then take up the strain And make the very yellow and harder rise again Rise
again, rise again Never need not be lost to the knowledge of men Oh those who love your best and were withered till the end We'll make the very yellow and
harder rise again Before we come back
She'd saved our lives so many times, living through the gale.
And the laughing drunken rats who left her to a sorry grave, they won't be laughing in another day.
And you, to whom adversity has dealt the final blow, With smiling baskets lying to you everywhere you go, Turn to put out all your strength of honor, And heart and brain, and like the merry other cards, Rise again, rise again, rise again.
Though your heart be broken, a life about to end, No matter what you've lost, be it a home, a love, a friend, Like the merry other cards, rise again, rise again, rise again.
Though your heart be broken, a life about to end, No matter what you've lost, be it a home, a love, a friend, Like the merry other cards, rise again.
Like the merry other cards, rise again.
Like the merry other cards, rise again.
Like the merry other cards, rise again, rise again.
Like the merry other cards, rise again.
you Good evening, comrades.
Tonight, I'm going to discuss a classic Race and Reason by Carlton Putnam.
Now, Carlton Putnam had a very impressive resume.
He came from a prominent family and was a Princeton graduate.
He was a lawyer, and he was also heavily involved in the airline industry.
Now, his first book was a biography about Roosevelt.
He comes from a northern background.
During the latter part of the 50s, he started researching the whole issue of integration and became very concerned about this.
Eventually decides that he was going to write a letter to President Eisenhower.
Eventually, this idea progressed, and it became these two open letters.
One was written to the New York Times, and the other was in Life magazine.
Putnam is very concerned that the Northerners were telling the South what to do with no actual experience of the Negro and vis-a-vis Southern life.
At this point in time, apparently, well, historically, the Negroes were primarily in the South.
So this is going to be a book of, or a subject of somewhat limited scope in that sense.
He talks about how the Southerners often speak of states' rights, but Putnam wants the South to consider philosophy and biology.
Putnam says that most people are kind, so the topic of biology tends to be avoided.
Putnam makes the point that in history, when we look at the history of various states, there is no predominantly Negro society that is stable, and white societies that tend to intermarry a great deal tend to fall apart.
And he makes a statement that, show me one opposite case.
Now, some people might talk about, for example, the city of Timbuktu, but he points out that's really more of an Arab creation.
Now, societies can be defended, and in fact, it is right to do so.
So, the South really needs to claim a moral, but not a legalistic ground.
For one thing, he notes that the Constitution can be stretched and reinterpreted.
Of course, just in my own personal observation, and this is me interjecting something, but moral...
And religious principles, I would say, are typically more inspiring than legalese.
And one of the reasons for that, other than just the obvious, is that a lot of times when people get hung up in laws or rules, oftentimes when they get really hung up, they're really speaking in code.
So if the individual speaking about the Constitution or speaking of states' rights or English only, for example, is themselves speaking in a code and therefore speaking of something that is a substitute for what they're really arguing about, they're less convincing than someone who is speaking directly.
Now, even at the point of writing this letter, which was in the very late...
50s, early 60s era.
Scientists had 40 years of testing, and they really had no sound reason to back integration per se, but instead science going with the social trends attempted to show that race did not exist.
Now, this book is very old school in the sense that Western culture is viewed in an imperialistic fashion.
That is to say, when you compare it with Benoist or Glemi Faye, where there is a notion that not all culture need be westernized because Western culture is for Caucasians.
In this book, African life, or Africa per se, is viewed as a languishing place in need of improvement.
And, of course, therein lies the problem, because when you have this interchange, you tend to have an integration, at least in a global sense.
Now, many people wrote responsive letters to Putnam, and these letters had certain themes.
The themes tended to be divided into intermarriage, Americanism, Christianity, and Communism.
So there were those back then who claimed that the Negro was not interested in intermarriage, which even back then was clearly false, and Putnam states evidence of how they were.
Also, this notion of Americanism and this idea that it was said early on in the Declaration of Independence, for example, that everyone is equal.
Now, the original translation of that phrase and other phrases like it were equally free or equal in the sight of God.
So that's a little bit different.
Now, the other argument, of course, is one of Christianity, and that is the notion that one need be kind to the Negro, and that one is very difficult because it is hard to talk someone out of a religious imperative.
Even if aid to the Negro is, in general, never enough and something of a bottomless pit, still a religious service is for someone who thinks that they're a missionary or they're some sort of a religious do-gooder, I suppose.
How do you talk them out of that?
Back then, you also had this issue of communism, and there were some who said, well, if there's unrest and we don't give the Negro what they want, then maybe it'll create chaos and the communists will take over.
But an opposite view by some would be that, well, maybe these Negroes are communists.
The most likely one, I would say, is that if society breaks into chaos...
And especially becomes intermixed to the point where it can't govern, then Caucasian Russians would come and rule.
I mean, that would be the most natural thing, I would think.
And certainly, if you read Mein Kampf, the race that has the more ability to rule is going to step in and rule if there's a vacuum.
But that's a more advanced point.
Menopolitically.
Carl Putnam, he sees a change in social attitudes after 1932 because of this climate of social inclusion created by the New Deal.
Now, I would say that it's more than that.
I would say that modernity does tend towards race chaos in many cases because of increasing globalism.
He says that the Republican Party loves Lincoln, but it doesn't really represent Lincoln or his true beliefs.
Now, the Democrats, according to this author, they claim to love Jefferson, but they don't really advance Protestant work ethic.
Now, that might be.
And he was all for a Protestant ethic.
He was an Episcopalian, this author Putnam.
But in today's world, when you look at Jefferson, of course, it's now a little bit difficult to see Jefferson as...
Anything other than something of an integrationist himself, according to some reports.
It restates that Northerners will stretch the Constitution to accommodate what they wish.
Essentially, integration is destructive to white civilization.
Anyone wanting to defend white civilization needs a moral, religious, or philosophical high ground.
This is true even if it is unseemly to say so, or unkind to some.
Now, he tells us to be aware of the mulatto with a grudge.
And also, beware of the fact that Negroes or other outgroups are not objective about true status of their group because, to be fair, that kind of objectivity is difficult for everyone.
Now, this book does have a few systematic flaws because there's no or very little understanding or mention of the underlying reason for the racial problem.
Now, he does make, or some people, Perhaps some letter writers make some fleeting.
I think also, I'm pretty sure Putnam himself does make this mention of Eastern European immigrants who tend to drop the ball on the subject of integration.
This could be a semi-realization of the effects that were taking place, and of course, that would be more explored in the culture of critique.
He does have a very old-school Anglo-Saxon focus, and he tends to focus, obviously in this book, on the Southern problem and doesn't see this as really a global issue or even entirely a national issue at that point.
So this is a classic book, but of course you'll find it very old-school.
So I hope you enjoyed my review, and good evening and hail victory, comrades.
Thank you so much.
Greetings from the Southwest Jungle.
This is Stefan.
And Annie.
And we're just going to chat real briefly here in our humble little abode as we prepare for Northwest migration about something that we just have seen recently in the news about something that could very well relate to the situation of white people in the future in this country.
Right.
And we're also going to give you an update on where we're at and a couple other things that we've come up with and thought about as we have been preparing for our move.
Annie, why don't you give them our update?
Okay.
And we're doing this a little bit more naturally, so we've got a little bit more flexibility right now to make this podcast.
We are living with relatives, saving our money.
Working at very basic jobs that we feel we shouldn't be in, kissing nigger and Jew ass, but it will get us where we need to be.
And we should be in the homeland probably in the next couple of months.
So we're really excited.
Yes, we are.
All right.
Now, the situation I wanted to bring up was I saw something about a refugee camp in Jordan.
Which is where the Syrians in the Civil War are headed because of their homes and towns being destroyed.
And what I noticed about this is that there are 83,000 people in this one camp called the Zaatari.
I think that's how it's pronounced.
Right, right.
A refugee camp in Jordan, which is right over the border from Syria.
What I noticed is that these people have, first of all, this place started in 2012, and the people didn't just sit there and wait for government to roll in and deliver them supplies and food and tell them what to do and everything else.
They were very creative and active people.
They now have their own economy that is $10 million a month of business that they're doing.
And that's in the desert of the Middle East.
What do you think about that?
Right, that's a refugee camp.
It's really a little city.
So for those of you out there who are thinking, I can't move to the Northwest, or this is not going to work, here's an example of 83,000 people in just four years' time with a $10 million a month economy.
Certainly, our white people can do that.
And there are jobs and homes, and we've got a foundation in the Northwest.
So if you're doubting whether or not this will work and whether or not our group can make a new homeland and make a new area for ourselves, look at this.
Read this story.
There's lots of different sites that have all kinds of information on there.
So look at that.
Think about the positive things that we could do.
If we could get 83,000 people to move to the Northwest in three or four years, that would be astounding.
It can be done.
These are refugees with nothing.
We can do this.
Yeah, one important point that I want to make about it is that the people had existing relationships in the community.
So there's no reason why we can't establish those.
And for some, they're already existing, aren't they?
They should be.
Yeah, they are.
Plus, if you're listening to this podcast, you've already got relationships that are established when you get up there.
You've got people who are like-minded and know what you're going through and what a large part of your goals are when you want to be in a white community.
Yes, and it should be easier for us.
If we are, in many ways, more clever and more organized than greasy Middle Easterners, then we should be able to do this with no problem.
Absolutely.
And going back to us getting ready, a few things that we've thought about is when you're preparing to move, make sure that you think about your vehicle insurance, any kind of outside payments that you have, get everything paid up.
We're shooting for six months in advance.
We feel like we're going to get a job in the first couple of months.
But think about those things.
We're even packing basic necessities for food and toiletry, so those are items that we don't have to buy when we get up there.
We can do this.
I'll be on the forum tonight, and when you hear this podcast, come on out and tell me what you think.
All right, that's going to wrap it up.
We're going to be real short this time and have some time for some other folks on this RFN.
Coming soon, we're going to be talking about something called the White Privilege Conference.
And just think about that, and we'll have all kinds of info about that, and it's pretty disturbing, but it's something that people need to know.
Like privilege.
Don't you feel privileged?
No, actually I don't.
There's no box for me on that application form.
No, well, Caucasian or multi or whatever.
What they need to have on that form is do away with all the subcategories of check this box and check that box for faggot, gay, black, every other ethnicity, and just put, are you a white man?
Yeah, so end of the line.
Yeah.
The white woman being right in front of you.
All right, and just wish us luck that we survive the jungle here for the next couple months.
Until we get there, we'll show you the next radio.
Broadcast.
See ya.
See ya.
you Thank you.
And now it's time for a little completely incomprehensible Scottish dialect.
This is the Tannehill Weavers.
I know, but they were bonnie-o.
They sang, said, sweet and say, complete.
Stolen the heart of a lady-o.
La-de-o, la-de-o.
Follow the Gypsy Ladio.
It's chill to get up that silken gun and the ton is time to glide, yo.
And you'll come aboard the speed line licht and follow the Gypsy Ladio.
The castle's needs come day my team, inquiring for his lady, yo.
For the hens is running, the hawks is flying, and the Gypsy's a warrior lady, yo.
Ladio, Ladio.
Follow the Gypsy Ladio.
Ladio, Ladio.
Follow the Gypsy Ladio.
The castle's needs come day my team, my christians should be ready, yo.
Only time drink I wanna taste, till I get back my radio.
He's strong east, he's strong west, till he comes to yonder, foggy-o.
And there is spider, we fought, made him young, so Gypsy Ladio.
Ladio, Ladio.
Follow the Gypsy Ladio.
Will you come with me, my honey and my hat?
Will you come with me, my lady, yo?
I'm a smear, I'm a smear, I'm a smear, by the song of the times, by my side, the black, and that's just a game, yo.
I wanna come with you, my honey and my hat, wanna come with you, my dear, yo.
Till I try and to grease the brood, and acts in the water of the video.
Ladio, Ladio, Ladio.
Follow the Gypsy Ladio.
Ladio, Ladio, Ladio.
Ladio, Ladio.
All the Gypsy Ladio.
Ladio, Ladio.
All the Gypsy Ladio.
Ladio, Ladio.
All the Gypsy Ladio.
Ladio, Ladio.
All the Gypsy Ladio.
Ladio, Ladio.
All the Gypsy Ladio.
Ladio, Ladio.
All the Gypsy Ladio.
All the Gypsy Ladio.
This is, in fact, the first public comment I've made on the Asheville case in over 30 years.
I say again that we in our tiny little movement really do need to spend our limited time and resources on something besides endless navel-gazing and endless Groundhog Day-like looped replays of certain grotesque incidents from our past, like a dog returning to its vomit.
But Andy asked, and I can see that there is a point in a review of this particular episode, because as I've said before, I consider that many of you listening to these podcasts will become future leaders in white nationalism, and for the Northwest Independence Movement in particular.
One of the reasons for these podcasts is that I am desperately trying to find some way to impart over 40 years of movement experience to a whole new generation of younger leaders so that you do not make the same mistakes I did, so that you can save precious, precious time by not going down the same dead ends that I wasted so many years on.
And so far, I'm not doing very well at it.
Or I should say you guys aren't doing very well in the listening and taking heed department, since, as Andy spoke of earlier, we are still getting some really dumb incidents, like the kid who escaped from the juvenile detention facility last year and emailed me to tell me all about it and ask if he could come and crash on my sofa.
I don't think that was a setup.
I think the boy was just dumb as a bag of hammers.
And he had been made that way by a culture and an educational system that taught him to feel but never how to think.
The lesson seems to be that every one of you out there has to go through my learning curve on your own, since most of what I say on here seems to go in one ear and out the other.
The character of Movement Man has not only failed to improve, it has gotten markedly worse, largely thanks to the internet, which allows consequence-free misbehavior and preserves it for all time, but also due to the fact that since I came along, we have had Generation X and Generation Y and Generation B, each one more dumbed down by the Jews than the last, and I'm raving again.
Sorry.
Okay, Asheville.
In the spring of 1981, 34 years ago, five NSPA men and one woman were arrested by the ATF and charged with conspiring to plant oil drums full of napalm in shopping centers in Greensboro, North Carolina.
This, I might add, was after we had won one of our few victories and the Greensboro 16 had been acquitted by the first trial jury.
So the whole alleged plot didn't make any sense to begin with.
But then these federal government fabrications seldom do when they're examined closely.
The undercover agents in this case were a man named Michael Sweat from the ATF and a North Carolina SBI agent named Jill Arthur who posed as Sweat's girlfriend.
Sweat called himself Major Mike Swain and claimed to be a mercenary.
He showed up one day down in Raleigh and tried to get me interested in some project or other.
I can't even remember what.
As I recall, the conversation lasted about half an hour.
Having known real mercenaries in Rhodesia, i.e., guys who had been with Mad Mike Hoare We had all kinds of eccentrics coming by in those Greensboro days, and I politely blew the guy off and thought no more about it.
When he left, Sweat took a sheaf of NSPA literature with him, including several issues of the then-party newspaper, The New Order, which contained Frank Braswell's post office box because he was listed as an NSPA unit.
This is the origin of the bird-brained goat-dancing myth that I quote-unquote introduced Sweat to the Braswells.
I did no such thing.
He contacted Frank at the address which was listed in the party paper, and I didn't even know for almost a year that he was in contact with Frank or anyone else at all, much less that Frank was rambling to him for apparently hundreds of hours of audio tape about his violent fantasies.
The purpose of the whole exercise, by the by, was to punish me for my 43% of the vote, which I received in the Republican primary for State Attorney General, and to punish us all for the acquittal of the Greensboro men.
We had humiliated the power structure in North Carolina, and this was how the power struck back, by destroying six people, simply to demonstrate that they could still do so at will.
The regime of the time, Republicans, I might add, introduced no evidence of any kind that any actual conspiracy took place to commit any act of crime or violence, or that anything physical or material was done to further this alleged conspiracy.
That is supposed to be a legal requirement for a conviction, but the United States Attorney simply ignored that requirement and the defendants' stumble-bum public defenders did nothing.
Not surprising, since they were being paid by the same system that was destroying their clients.
The prosecution just pointed at the defendants and screamed, There they are!
They's wicked and evil white supremists!
They's Nazis!
Get them!
And, of course, the jury did.
The so-called evidence consisted of one thing, and one thing only.
Hour after endless hour of recorded audio tapes, cassette tapes in those days, tapes of one man, Frank Braswell, babbling and babbling.
And babbling into hidden microphones and on the telephone.
Only one man.
The rest of them went to prison because they sat there and responded with casual, noncommittal comments, but at no point did they flat out tell him to be quiet.
My own telephone was tapped in order to pick up conversations with Frank.
In those days, by law, they had to inform you of the length and duration and expiration of the tap after the fact.
These days, the dictatorship simply ignores that law like they ignore everything else.
Okay, Frank Braswell.
He died some years ago of a heart attack while shoveling snow outside his trailer up in Mitchell County, North Carolina.
He had many strong and admirable qualities.
I always liked him personally, and I will do my damnedest to discuss this without pissing on the man's grave.
But the simple fact is that he dragged himself and five other people to prison, including his own wife, because he simply would not shut the fuck up about his fantasies of illegal activity.
And also because nobody, including myself, bothered to call him down on it and give him an ultimatum to either shut up about illegal activity or leave the group before, well, before what eventually happened happened.
Why not?
Because Frank Braswell was many things that we needed and still need.
He was active, dynamically so.
He would make a four-hour drive down to Raleigh to make a Saturday meeting, load up with material from the headquarters literature room, and on the way back, he would pull off the interstate in some little town along the way and distribute every piece before he got home, under people's windshields and whatnot.
He was physically fearless.
He was quite capable of walking up to somebody in a parking lot, handing them a leaflet or a pamphlet with a swastika on it, and starting a conversation about Adolf Hitler.
Now, bear in mind that this was back in my Orthodox National Socialist days, when we were all still wearing the costume.
Whenever I needed bodies for something, Frank was always there.
He ran his own recorded message up there in Burnsville, although the content was admittedly a bit bizarre sometimes.
The simple and brutal fact is that like so many movement fearless leaders before or since, down to this day, I got mileage out of Frank Braswell and others like him because the so-called good people, the optimates as I call them now, the substantial and successful people with intelligence and education and assets and standing in the community and responsible jobs and businesses, many of whom believed just as firmly in what we were doing as Frank did, would not step forward.
And seemed to devote the majority of their efforts to hiding, to concealing their identities so no one would find out that they were racial heretics and that their minds were not fully under control, so the dictatorship would not punish them by taking their stuff, by depriving them of the material wealth and possessions which are the reward of conformity and which white Americans prize more than anything else, including their own children.
Us fearless leaders eventually have to use the Frank Braswells among us to get things done, because you so-called good guys, optimates in Latin, for those of you who share my historical eccentricities, because you good guys will not step forward and assume the role of leadership in our community that your education, your knowledge, and your life experience dictates that you should, if you had any sense of responsibility to anyone but yourselves, what the Romans used to call civitas.
You're too afraid that they will take away your stuff.
And yeah, they might.
The t-shirt youth and the Frank Braswells of the world don't have anything to take.
The dictatorship has already taken it all, so they have nothing to lose.
You are too afraid that stupid people might point at you and say bad things about you on the internet.
The Frank Braswell types don't care what some anonymous wanker says about them in a blog comment section or on Stormfront.
You are too afraid...
That you will lose your precious job, whatever stupid thing it is that you do for money, which is what defines a white man in Obama's America, although fewer and fewer of us these days have jobs.
Finally, in some cases, you're too afraid that the little woman will have a hysterical shit-fit and run away from you, taking the kids in whatever intermittent sexual contact with a white female you have, because you have left the herd and put her nest and her own stuff at risk.
Then she herself will come with her lawyer and try to take as much of your stuff as she can get and squeeze those precious green pieces of paper out of you for the rest of your life while telling your children lies about you and giving other men, possibly niggers or beaners, what your I'm not denying that.
I'm just saying that you have got to stop giving in to them.
New inheritance, fight all your fights with your heart.
It's just the way it is.
Success is for those to believe.
In a happy ending you know, wherever everyone achieves.
So you should always rule.
New inheritance, fight all your fights with your heart.
On my own, I can make it.
And if I can, we can.
We can all be winners.
With our own, but still together we win.
Win the day.
With the sun and I tasted the sweetness it can bring.
Family and blood.
Family and blood.
The only thing that matters in the end.
So you should always rule.
Inheritance, fight all your fights with your heart.
On my own, I can make it.
On my own, I can make it.
And if I can, you can.
We can all be winners.
With our own, but still together we will.
Win the day.
I can't feel that new.
I can't feel scared.
When we win this battle, everyone will know you dare.
On my own, I can make it.
And if I can, you can.
We can all be winners.
Win on our own, but still together we will.
Win the day.
On my own, I can make it.
And if I can, you can.
We can all be winners.
Win on our own, but still together we will.
Win the day.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh Bill White recently pointed out in one of his letters that white people talk the talk, but they are unable or unwilling to endure even mild physical or psychic discomfort in the service of those ideas that they claim to believe in.
Speaking of wives, Frank Braswell was one of the lucky ones among us.
He had a beautiful and loyal wife and mother to his children, whom he destroyed along with himself.
She was as totally committed to the NSPA and National Socialism as he was.
Very rare for a woman, but maybe if Pat had put her foot down, who knows?
Maybe she could have gotten him to shut the hell up about planting bombs and killing people.
I will not go off into a long biographical digression telling Frank's life story.
Suffice it to say that the system screwed Frank Braswell up one side and down the other in terrible ways, and he wanted blood vengeance.
Morally and spiritually, he was well entitled to blood vengeance, and I would have liked nothing better than to toss Frank Braswell a Thompson in a couple of dumb magazines and say, Here you go, Frank.
Go get him.
Get yourself a week's burying.
After what had been done to him and his family, he had the right to demand that, and I deeply regret not being able to give it to him, or to all of you who have been so terribly wronged and your lives so terribly maimed by this evil regime and the evil reptiles in human form who rule us.
But I can't do that.
I have to keep an eye on the big picture, when no one else will.
It's always been my duty station within the movement not only to stand up and speak the truth in the face of the dictator's servants, But also to our own people, to hold up mirrors in front of their faces, and there have been a lot of us down through the years who have not taken kindly to that.
I am the one who has to tell you guys flat out and try to make you understand that we are not here for private personal vengeance against the black-skinned apes and the white-yellow dogs who have hurt you and savaged you so terribly, that we have to bring down the whole system at once and replace it with our own,
that we must maintain a lifelong iron, Personal self-discipline to do that, and that in order to function at all, and to bring the day of this dictatorship's destruction closer, we must control ourselves year in and year out.
Take their slaps to the face, their theft of our goods, their insults and their spittle on our faces and their urine on our prostrate bodies, and wait for a vindication that will come one day, but maybe never in our lifetime, where we can see it and revel in it.
That's one of the hardest things about serving this merciless goddess of the fourteen words.
Accepting that we may toil all our lives and never see the fruits of our labors.
Frank Braswell had a lot of trouble with that, and one way he compensated for it was by babbling, by fantasizing out loud, by constantly coming up with all kinds of odd and illegal schemes that he was always trying to interest me and others in.
When he got his pilot's license and the use of his cousin's private plane, he wanted to fly us down to Colombia and smuggle emeralds into the country.
He came up with a scheme for the party to invade the Falkland Islands and make it a white homeland years before General Galtieri in Argentina did.
Silly crap like that!
And because Frank was useful, and indeed in some cases his help was crucial, because he would come when I called and always put a hundred and ten percent into whatever we were doing, and because his schemes were so obviously off the wall that it never occurred to me or anybody else that anybody could take them seriously, and because we were used to it all after six years of knowing Frank, we put up with this little eccentricity as we saw it.
Ah, that's just Frank, we'd say to ourselves.
That's just Frank being frank.
He talks like that all the time.
He doesn't mean nothing by it.
Anyone who knew him understood this, and the two human slugs who sat in his home and in Garl Pierce's home and lured him into babbling and babbling and babbling knew it as well.
They and the United States Attorney knew perfectly well that no criminal conspiracy was ever planned or intended.
And that the two undercovers deliberately fabricated the whole thing by simply letting Frank Braswell verbalize the revenge fantasies of a wronged and bitter man who had every right to want revenge against the evil that had wrecked his life.
And they wrecked it further and destroyed the lives of five other people as well.
I was told by several attorneys involved in the case that the main problem on the tapes was not so much Frank Braswell babbling, although they did suspect that some of the tapes had been edited and altered, but the fact that at no point on the tapes was anyone ever heard to say, Frank, shut up!
We are not going to do this!
You are talking about breaking the law, and we do not break the law!
They seemed to feel that if anyone had simply said this out loud, simply told Frank to be quiet, the case might have collapsed, because as things were, it was paper thin, with literally the only evidence against the defendants being their seemingly silent acquiescence.
Now, of course, anybody familiar with the people involved would have said, ah, that's just Frank.
I know this doesn't sound like much of an excuse, but we were so used to Frank Braswell coming up with some wild illegal scheme at every meeting, and so many years had gone by when no one in the power structure paid any attention that we simply lost track of how dangerous it was.
And five innocent people paid with years of torment.
Six, if you count Frank himself, who was foolish but just as innocent as the others as far as any serious intention actually to do any of this nonsense went.
If at any time you find yourself on the telephone or in the presence of someone who will not shut up about illegal activity or nowadays email or chat room, it is not enough just to leave the room or hang up or refuse to respond to the email or whatever.
You need to respond with a clear Loud and definitive statements, so any microphones present can hear you, to the effect of, "No, what you are talking about is against the law, and we are not going to break the law.
We are not going to do this whatever it is." Then you leave the room, or you otherwise break the connection, and you do not resume it.
You sever connections with this individual.
It is dangerous to be around him.
The chances are that the individual in question is not some kind of spy or enemy agent provocateur, just a dumbass American white boy who never learned how to think.
But in this society, remember, one way or the other, you never know who's listening.
And you never know when you will be confronted in a Jewish courtroom with your typed words like Matt Hale or the sound of your recorded voice like Ed Steele and Frank Braswell, neither of which may have been typed or said.
Or bear any resemblance at all to the truth.
Yes, they can do that, and yes, they will.
Forget this at your peril.
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 Underbottom.
We're good to go.
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