After many, many years there came a king’s son into that land: and an old man told him the story of the thicket of thorns; and how a beautiful palace stood behind it, and how a wonderful princess, called Briar Rose, lay in it asleep, with all her court. He told, too, how he had heard from his grandfather that many, many princes had come, and had tried to break through the thicket, but that they had all stuck fast in it, and died. Then the young prince said, ‘All this shall not frighten me; I will go and see this Briar Rose.’ The old man tried to hinder him, but he was bent upon going.
A big Republican winner in Ohio immediately announced in his victory speech that his top priority was “diversity.” Rand Paul followed suit: after the Republican victories, he scolded Republicans for ignoring black and Hispanic voters. He, the great Rand Paul, would change that. And on it goes into the night. We can elect different executioners if we want, but the extermination process will still proceed at a steady pace.
The white Europeans are in the position of Antonio in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. Shylock wants Antonio’s heart’s blood, and he will use the letter of the law to get it: “I crave the law, The penalty and forfeit of my bond.” To move Shylock with an appeal for mercy is futile:
I pray you, think you question with the Jew:
You may as well go stand upon the beach
And bid the main flood bate his usual height;
You may as well use question with the wolf
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb;
You may as well forbid the mountain pines
To wag their high tops and to make no noise,
When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven;
You may as well do anything most hard,
As seek to soften that–than which what’s harder?–
His Jewish heart:
Of course there is a crucial difference between the white man’s current rulers and the rulers of Shakespeare’s imaginary Venice. Antonio did not have his heart cut out because the spirit of the law, which was adhered to by the Christian ruler of Venice, requires that justice should be tempered with “the quality of mercy.” Not so in Liberaldom. The liberals, whether they are Jews or non-Jews, have Shylockian hearts. They will have their pound of flesh. The history of the European people is now a history of slaughter. Every day the blood-red tide of colored atrocities rises, and the concern of the liberals who govern white nations is to attack the white victims of the colored atrocities. By some twisted liberal logic, it is always the white man’s fault when colored barbarians murder whites. No atrocity is ever the fault of the negro barbarians or other barbarians of color. Evil resides only in white people; therefore, the evil that the colored barbarians do is either not evil, or, if it is deemed evil, it is the fault of the white man.
I feel toward the white grazers as Anthony Jacob felt toward the white Kenyans. He had no wish to deride the already much derided white Kenyans. They were guilty of only one thing: they trusted white liberals. That, in a nutshell, is the reason for white genocide. Liberals are in a minority in every white nation, yet they rule in every white nation, because white grazers permit them to rule. And please don’t respond with “vote them out of office.” There are no non-liberals running for office. The liberals understand the historical moment and the grazers do not, because they have no Burke to rally them. An implacable satanic foe armed with cruel hate has hired a mercenary army of colored barbarians to destroy the white race. It seems impossible to get the grazers to turn away from their football games long enough to grasp that essential fact of life in modern Satania. But the grazers are white people, so I will not assume that they are irremediable. “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more…”
White people are between a rock and a hard place. The Shylockian liberals want their blood, and the colored barbarians are quite willing to shed white blood. White people’s only refuge, their racial hearth fire, is forbidden them, so they languish in a death-in-life limbo while they wait for the final death blow. Every white nation has a proud history of fighting men who were once part of the fabric of their nation. What has happened to the race that produced such men as Alfred, Tell, Wallace, Forrest, Bozzaris, Roland, and Winkelreid? I recently read of 10,000 Somalians who have overrun Scotland. How can this happen to the country of Wallace, Bruce, and Sir Walter Scott? How can any white European permit his nation to be defiled by the presence of colored barbarians? It has to do with our spiritual backbone, which is our race. If white people don’t believe they are a race apart from the colored races, a race of people who must protect and love their own, then they will not fight to preserve their race. How can a man fight for something he doesn’t believe exists?
As white people have disappeared as a race so has the quality of mercy disappeared. Cruelty and sexual depravity are all that is left in the formerly white nations, because there are no white people left who will fight negrophile liberalism. The grazers will “support our troops,” who are not our troops, and they will support their local clergy and the local schools, but they will not fight for race and faith. “Our troops” are the troops of negrophile liberalism, our schools are liberal, negrophile factories, and our clergymen are blasphemers who have made the living God an adjunct of negro-worshipping liberalism. Instead of voting for our executioners we should take the same vow that Tell took when Gessler threatened the lives of his sons, his wife, and his people.
My boys, poor innocents, my loyal wife,
Must be protected, tyrant, from thy rage!
When last I drew my bow – with trembling hand–
And thou, with fiendishly remorseless glee
Forced me to level at my own boys head,
When I, imploring pity, writhed before thee,
Then in the anguish of my soul,
A fearful oath, which met God’s ear alone,
That when my bow next wing’d an arrow’s flight
Its aim should be thy heart.
The vow I made,
Amid the hellish torments of that moment,
I hold a sacred debt, and I will pay it.
Just a story? Europeans come from the land of storybooks. The heroes of our race point us to The Hero.
When the liberals and the clergy command us to progress beyond provincial, bardic, racist Europe to a universal, scientific world consecrated to the Negro, we should respond as Tell did that day at the mountain pass near Kussnacht. Our innocents are threatened. We have tried pleading, but to no avail. There is no mercy in the liberals or in the colored barbarians. How could there be mercy in the souls of those who have rejected the God of mercy or in the souls of those who have never known the God of mercy? The words “fiendishly remorseless glee” resonate with us today. Doesn’t that describe the liberals? The fiendish glee with which they respond to the colored atrocities against whites make me feel as Tell felt. There can be only one response to such creatures from hell: “Amid the hellish torments of that moment, I hold a sacred debt, and I will pay it.”
I was blessed to grow up during a time when the real Walt Disney was making pictures, so let me mention a short story-type of cartoon he made about Johnny Appleseed. We see Johnny as a young man who decides to plant apple seeds throughout the United States. The years roll by, and Johnny stays true to his mission. At the end of the story, Johnny lies down under an apple tree, and his immortal body steps away from his mortal husk. The transfigured body then goes on to plant apple trees in heaven. That image of death was comforting to me; in fact it was the only comforting image of death I ever encountered in my childhood. I couldn’t articulate the reason why I found the Johnny Appleseed death comforting; I just knew that I did. Looking back I realize that I was comforted by the fact that there was a real bodily resurrection and that heaven was not depicted as some other unworldly, unfamiliar existence. It was a continuance of what was good here on earth.
After World War I, the first European War in which both sides abandoned chivalry (in our uncivil war only the North abandoned chivalry), a new European came to the forefront. He was a man who followed a different path than the one Johnny Appleseed followed. Johnny stepped away from his mortal husk into his immortal body. The new European reversed the process: he stepped away from his immortal soul and proceeded to wander the earth without it. He went from a divinely infused man of grace to a man without a soul, trying to make up for its absence by the power of his disembodied intellect. Such men, the men of the disembodied intellects, are cannon fodder for the demonic man of intellect who rules Satandom through his liberal minions.
The white man’s refusal to fight for his people – let us use the Somalian invasion of Scotland as the mirror image of what is occurring in every white nation – is the result of the white man’s flight from his soul. His white skin contains his soul, and as long as he retains his soul he is subject to all the terrors of the spiritual life that a blood-and-sex pagan is not subject to. “Do I simply go from a corruptible body to an incorruptible body, or do I enter a state of suspended animation somewhere between death and life? Or worse yet, do I melt into nothingness?” The fear of that undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns has sent the white man into an intellectual retreat from which he supports the colored heathens, because their religions give him the opiates of sex and blood. But even here, the white man feels cheated; he can only participate in the heathen religions second-hand; lurking somewhere in the darkness is his white soul, trying to envelope him in that old world of crosses and redemption.
A religion that is not embodied soon becomes a dead religion. This is why the liberals must continue to attack every last vestige of Christian Europe. That Europe must remain in the grave so the new Europe, the Europe of the anesthetized zombie whites, can live. A Christian European is, in the eyes of the secular liberal and the clergyman, a fiend who will impede mankind’s progress toward a colored utopia where all mankind can forget the Man of Sorrows. Whites won’t fight back against the colored invasion, because they don’t know the answer to Melville’s question, “Sentry, are you there?” The answer can be found in the collective face of the European people, before they separated themselves from their souls. There is no magic formula, no intellectual gambit that can make the white man fight for his people and his God. He must see existence feelingly before he will fight. Beyond the rational man, beyond the philosophical man, is the man of storybooks, the true European. He is the hero that by a miracle of grace has not succumbed to modern Babylon; he is a man with a soul. Let us follow such men to fairy tale Europe where we will discover that His Kingdom come and eternal Europe are one and the same. +