Politically-correct English

Languages never stay still. In one key dialect of modern English, meaning can be conveyed by the absence of adjectives. It happens with the nouns “man” and “men”, though you’ll also see it with nouns like “youth/s”, “teen/s”, and so on. Mentions of “men” are often men-shuns, because the media avoid describing the “men” any further. But that very absence of description conveys a clear meaning. I can remember seeing a good example of this semantic rule – meaning-by-adjectival-absence – in 2005, when a policewoman was shot dead by criminals in the vibrant multicultural city of Bradford, in northern England. It was a highly unusual crime by English standards and the police, as you would expect, quickly issued a description of the suspects. They were on the look-out, news broadcasts informed the nation, for “up to three men”.

So the shocked citizens of Bradford knew that the suspects were “men” and that there were possibly three of them. Beside that, they knew nothing. The police did not think it would be “helpful” to add further adjectives to the generic noun “men”.

 

(Read it all!)

Auster’s principal discovery

Today during my peripatetic soliloquies in my daily walk, I realized that I have failed to transfer into textual form one of my most recurrent soliloquies about the current totalistic paradigm. But first I would like to drop a few lines about the previous totalistic paradigm for the white peoples.

The original Latin text that Catholics used to listen during the traditional Mass—:

Credo in unum Deum,
Patrem omnipoténtem,
factorem cæli et terræ,
visibílium ómnium et invisibílium…

—is called Nicene because it was adopted in the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD (a city that changed its name after the Turkish occupation). The Nicene Creed has been normative not only for the Catholic Church but for the Orthodox Church and many Protestant denominations.

Latin was a language designed for uttermost clarity. When the tenets of Christianity became under direct attack by the end of the 18th century, the Enlightenment philosophers, some of them recently emancipated from the Jesuits’ indoctrination, knew exactly the doctrinaire content of the principles they were taking to task.

The situation today is exactly the opposite, I have told myself during so many soliloquies. One of the reasons why contemporary whites have been unable to challenge the new paradigm that began to be formed after the Enlightenment, called “liberalism” by Lawrence Auster and which reached its peak in our times with the American hegemony over Europe, is that the liberal axiom has never been stated explicitly by its proponents. The situation reminds me the Aristotelian concept of the enthymeme with its unstated assumption that must be true for the premises to lead to a conclusion.

The late Auster discovered that liberals were suppressing a crystal-clear, Nicaean-like statement of their major premise. Their Non-discriminatory principle is unstated and simply taken as axiomatic: something akin to the Orwellian world where the State controlled thought by means of controlling the peoples’ language. In Auster’s own words, “No one in today’s society, including conservatives, feels comfortable identifying this utterly simple idea, because that would mean opposing it.”

Unlike Latin, Newspeak is a language designed for uttermost unclarity. This means, of course, that in order to reverse the totalistic belief system that presently controls the white psyche, one must first identify the liberal axiom before the dissident, post-Enlightenment philosopher is even able to discuss it.

In other words, if we listened the liberal axiom with the same frequency that, as a child, I listened the Nicene Creed every Sunday during the Mass, the first step to disabuse whites from the paradigm that is destroying the West would have been taken.

The Brigade excerpts, chapter I

by Harold Covington

“I’ve Had Enough of What Ain’t Right!”

“I’ll do it,” said Zack Hatfield.

“Do what?” asked his friend Charlie Washburn.

“Kill them,” said Hatfield. “I’m going to kill both of those bitches.”

The two of them were sitting on plastic-upholstered armchairs in the musty living room of Zack’s cheap furnished apartment in Astoria, Oregon. Hatfield was a tall and rangy blond man in his late 20s. His muscles were lean and ropy, and his often scowling face was prematurely seamed from working outside in the cold and the wind, at whatever temporary labor jobs he could find in his home town that hadn’t been snapped up by Mexicans.

♣

“Yah, apparently that’s the big thing in all the feminist self-help and psychobabble books now. They call it life scheduling or some such shit,” explained Hatfield. “The first marriage is for kids, which of course she always takes with her in the divorce settlement after soaking hubby number one for every penny she can. Apparently the lesbian thing is also something every truly liberated woman is supposed to schedule now. I think all Ms. Proudfoot has to her name is a welfare check and a line of noble Native American Womyn crap.”

“Woe-men?” repeated King.

Hatfield nodded. “That’s the way fems write it. I think that’s how it’s pronounced. It’s one of those PC shibboleths the media and the intelligentsia are trying to introduce into the language and make into an accepted and then mandatory term, like the word Ms. George Orwell wrote about it in 1984. Newspeak. Mind control. Just like we have to say African-American instead of nigger. When a totalitarian society controls the language, controls the words that people use in speech, and punishes them for using any word or terminology other than the prescribed ones, eventually the whole population will be so afraid they’ll start using the politically correct terms in their very thoughts, to make sure they don’t blurt out some word that will make them lose their jobs or get them arrested for hatespeech. Anyway, your life has to be destroyed because it fits into Liddy’s life schedule, apparently. It’s all about her, of course. You’re a used component and now she’s throwing you away.”

“But if she wanted a divorce she didn’t have to do—this!” King waved his hand around at the surrounding walls and Plexiglass. “Why this?”

“To make absolutely sure that she gets Caitlin and Judy,” Hatfield replied patiently. He had explained the situation to King several times before, and so had his court-appointed attorney, but it was obvious that King simply could not yet wrap his mind around what was being done to him. “Under both the federal hatecrime laws and the Oregon Diversity and Tolerance Act, any conviction for hatecrime or hatespeech automatically terminates a convicted offender’s parental rights.”

“All for one single word?” screamed King in horror. The walls were closing in on him and he was clearly beginning to go insane. “Just because I said dyke?”

“Hey, buddy, settle down!” snapped the guard behind him. “You’re in enough trouble already! I’m a pretty laid back kind of guy, but it’s my job to make sure you don’t talk any more hateful stuff.”

Hatfield ignored him, and when King got the phone back to his ear he went on. “Martha Proudfoot claims that you made her feel threatened because of her gender, her sexual orientation, and her race. I think she claims you said dyke squaw, actually. You’re lucky the D.A. kept it in state court and so you’re only looking at five years for the speech. If they’d gone federal with it they might claim that making the Proudfoot woman feel apprehensive was an act of hatefully-motivated assault, which they can do under the statute, and then they could hit you with actual hate crime, which is mandatory life, maybe without parole if the judge thinks you actually intended to strike her.”

“Strike her?” laughed King bitterly. “My God, have you seen that creature? She’s built like a bulldozer!”

“Steve, you know that the FBI had some child psychologist and a couple of agents in the other day and they grilled the girls for four or five hours?”

“Yeah, Pritkin, my lawyer, told me about that. Caitlin is six years old! Judy is four! What in God’s name could they expect to get from children?” demanded King incredulously.

“They asked the girls if you’d ever said any bad things about black people or Hispanic people as well as gay people, that kind of crap. This thing up in Idaho last month has them really freaked out and maximum paranoid. The Marines just recaptured Coeur d’Alene a few days ago, and the feds are seeing white supremacist rebels under every bed now. They asked your girls if they’d ever seen any flags in your house. Green, white, and blue ones.”

♣

“We can just stand by and wring our hands while Steve King’s life is destroyed, and the lives of two little girls are poisoned. We can write a letter to the editor, or maybe get drunk and call up a right-wing talk show, although we’d damned well better not say what we really think, or we’ll be up on hatespeech charges too. And it won’t save Caitlin and Judy King from being raised to hate all men of their own race.”

“Suppose we all club together whatever money we’ve got and try to hire a decent lawyer for Steve?” suggested Ekstrom.

“There’s no such thing as a decent lawyer, and even if there were, they wouldn’t stand a chance in these courts on a hatespeech case,” Zack told them. “No lawyer with enough clout to beat a hatespeech case will touch one, because of the repercussions to his own career if he does win. There is only one way. Those two bitches can’t be around to get up on a witness stand and swear his life away.”

“It’s not just about Steve,” said Washburn heavily. “It’s about Caitlin and Judy as well.”

“It’s not even about them, Charlie, not in the final analysis,” said Hatfield, shaking his head. “It’s about us. About whether we’re men or dogs.” Zack suddenly clenched his fist and roared aloud, a lifetime of rage and humiliation and contempt for the world around him welling up from his heart and his belly and his brain and bursting out of his body in an explosion.

Washburn looked at the other two men. “Me, too. I’m in. Len, I think Zack’s right. You’d best take a powder. Zack’s single and I’m divorced, and we both have crappy jobs and nothing to lose. You have a family and a business and you’ve got everything to lose. I wasn’t a Ranger like Zack, I was just a truck driver, but I remember enough of my military stint to fire a weapon. I’m sure two of us can do this. There’s no need for you to be involved.”

“I am tired of living in hell,” said Ekstrom. “I never thought that I would be ready in my own mind to kill someone. But I’m ready. At some point in time, this madness and this cruelty has to stop. For me, it stops with Steve King. They’re not going to get him. No.”

“That’s the real thing, all right,” said Zack with a sigh and a smile. “It’s taken how many years between us to reach this point? Sometimes I thought white men never would.”

“We have,” said Charlie. “Okay, Zack, you’re the ex-Ranger. You should know how to plan a double assassination. How do we go about this? What do you want Len and me to do?”

“I’ll do the planning and the actual killing. I need you two to provide an alibi, nothing more,” said Zack.

“You do realize the shit is going to hit the fan big time when two lesbians with a hatespeech case pending against a white male are murdered?” asked Charlie. “You also realize that yours is the first door Sheriff Ted Lear is going to come knocking on? He knows you and Steve have been tight since high school, plus you visited him in jail.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why I need you two guys as my alibi,” said Hatfield with a grin. “But I’ve also got a little trick up my sleeve to muddy the waters like hell. I’m going to take a magic marker with me, and I’m going to write the letters NVA [Northwest Volunteer Army] on the wall. Maybe in their blood.”

“Jesus, Zack, that will be sure to bring in the FBI!” exclaimed Washburn. “After what’s happened in Coeur d’Alene, they’re descending on the Northwest like a swarm of angry bees!”

“We see all over CNN and Fox News that the uprising in Coeur d’Alene has been crushed and it’s all over. I don’t buy that. My guess is what’s left of the real NVA is going to keep on fighting and hitting these bastards.”

♣

He walked calmly down the empty street and turned in at the Kings’ driveway. Inside the sweat shirt, stuck into his belt was a truncated double-barreled 12-gauge shotgun. There was a battered military-surplus Hummer in the driveway sporting a number of feminist and pro-abortion bumper stickers, which Zack had learned belonged to Martha Proudfoot. There were no other cars in the driveway, which was a good sign. He had no way of knowing if Liddy King or the Proudfoot woman had become sufficiently paranoid to install an alarm system. Steve King had never used one, since this part of the Northwest was still sufficiently crime-free so it had not seemed necessary, as long as the family had Spuds the terrier to sound the alarm in case of intrusion. But with the media full of hysterical raving about evil racist terrorist conspiracies in the wake of the October rebellion in Idaho, the two lesbians might have gotten jumpy.

He pushed the door open. The chain was off, so he would not need the small pair of bolt cutters in his left back pocket. That’s a stroke of luck, he thought. They’re careless. Careless and arrogant. I’ll bet it simply never occurred to them that despite what they’re doing, anyone would dare to lift a finger to stop them. Why would it occur to them? Until a few weeks ago, no one’s ever fought back.

The little beds were empty. Thank God, he thought to himself. Caity and Judy at least won’t have nightmares about terrible sounds and boogey men in masks from this night’s work. I wonder if they will ever be able to understand why, when they grow up?

Now Hatfield stood outside the master bedroom door. He could hear low, drowsy female voices from within, talking softly and casually. There was no sign of alarm; he had been as silent as the grave. Zack pulled two rubber ear plugs out of his pocket, lifted his mask and inserted them into his ears so the noise and concussion of the heavy bore gun going off in a closed room would not damage or rupture his ear drums. He slid the hammerless shotgun out and eased the safety off; it was ready to fire. He took a long deep breath…

♣

“You wrote those letters on the wall?” Ekstrom persisted curiously.

“I did. Don’t know when they’ll find the bodies, but when they do I promise you’ll be able to hear the Daily Astorian scream in horror all the way down to Coos Bay.”

“What happened in Coeur d’Alene has changed things. Now we know it can be done. We failed in Coeur d’Alene, but the Party hasn’t been destroyed. I know because I have been in contact with some people who escaped from Coeur d’Alene and who are still fighting, carrying on a guerrilla war to establish our own white country here in the Northwest. It’s going to be long and bloody and horrible, but we’re going to win.”

“How do you figure that?” asked Washburn curiously.

“Short answer? God is on our side,” said Zack simply. “Oooo-kaaay…” said Washburn. “And you know this, how?”

“Because of what happened in Coeur d’Alene and what happened with me tonight,” Zack explained. “These things are God’s sign to us. Not whether we won or lost, or whether I screwed up somehow and I’m in jail looking at a double murder charge this time tomorrow night. That’s not what matters. What matters is that these things happened. That we did them. God has given the white man back his courage. The courage to stand up and defy our oppressors’ laws. The courage to fight back with weapons in our hands, instead of a computer keyboard. The courage to be men again, real courage that comes from our hearts and not from a can of cheap domestic beer or a whiskey bottle. We never had that before, up until now, and that’s why white men always lost. We were ashamed of who we were. We were ashamed to be who we are.

“No more. Guys like me and the Old Man and so many others have spent all our lives begging God on our knees to just do this one little thing for us, to give us back the courage that our ancestors had, even if it’s only for one last glorious defeat, so that we can die on our feet instead of live on our knees, and exit the stage of history with our heads held high. God has answered our prayers. We have our courage back now. I don’t know how it happened, but we’ve got it back. We got ours back when we did this thing tonight, because even though I was the trigger man, you guys stepped up to the plate just as much as I did. Anyway, I’m going to meet with some people about joining the Northwest Volunteer Army.”

http://northwestfront.org/

Bowden (1962-2012)

Jonathan Bowden was the best orator of white nationalist circles.

Excerpted from a long transcript of 11,000 words, below I reproduce only a few sentences of a relatively recent speech of Bowden in California. It resonates with what another Briton, Kenneth Clark, said in his Civilisation series: that what kills civilisations is, above all, lack of self-confidence.

Before an American nationalist audience, Bowden said:


Since the Second World War, White Europeans have felt guilty about being themselves and have been made to feel guilty and are being encouraged to feel guiltier than they have at any other time in their history. There is no period in our history where we have faced such evident self-hatred.

It’s quite shocking how, since 1960—I was born in 1962—the West has lost its fiber. Fifty years, a blip historically: it’s a click of the fingers. And yet for fifty years we’ve seen nothing but funk, nothing but a failure of nerve.

Now, let’s unpackage this a bit. Communism in the 20th century killed tens of millions. Tens of millions. Mao said, after the laborious translation had intervened, “I’m rather proud of it, actually”; proud of being the worst mass murderer in human history.

♣

It used to be only B-listed Hollywood films that would show a powerful Black executive President ruling in the Oval Office. Almost a psychic preparation for the real thing. And now the real thing has occurred. With the Obama Presidency, you see the future the United States writ large.

So the most powerful Western country is now led by a non-Westerner. Something which would’ve been unthinkable in the 1960s, I would imagine; unthinkable in the 1970s, but is now evidently thinkable and thinkable to such a degree that I think a lot of the anger about it which is manifested in Libertarian currents like the Tea Party movement, seems to have evaporated.

When you give up the control of a state for duration—particularly the control of the most powerful republic the world has ever seen—you’re partly doomed when you’ve done that.

It is true that the United States is in a radical—and from a European perspective, terminal—decline. Partly because the European empires of the past: British, French, Dutch, Spanish, German and elsewhere, can see the writing on the wall. All of the precedents: of indebtedness, of being beholden to China in relation to the manipulation of the debt and its economic management, by having an ally such as Israel that wags the tail of the dog to such a degree that it’s almost in charge of the Middle Eastern policy of the United States of America.

If you allow your culture to be transparently disfigured by forces which are external and internal to it, and which you could have controlled in previous incarnations, you will witness your own death knell. And you will witness it in your own lifetime.

♣

Political correctness is a methodology and a grammar. It is designed to restrict the prospect of a thought before the thought is even enunciated. Chairman Mao had the idea of “magic words.” Magic words. “Racism” is a magic word. Use it, and people fall apart. People begin to disengage even from their own desire to defend themselves. All of the other “–isms”: sexism, disableism, classism, ageism, homophobia, islamaphobia, all the others are pale reflections, in other and slightly less crucial areas, of the original one: “racism.”

“Racism” is a term developed by Leon Trotsky in an article in the Left oppositionist journal in the Soviet Union in 1926 or 1927. It is now universalized from its dissentient communist origins—don’t forget Trotsky was on the way out of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union as Stalin engineered his disposal and the disposal the Left opposition that he led—and that word has been extracted now to such a degree that it is a universal. It’s universal, it’s become a moral lexicon of engagement and disengagement. If you wish to condemn somebody in contemporary discourse, you say that they are racist. And there’s a degree to which nobody can refute you’re saying in the present dispensation.

You have a situation now where people have so loaded upon themselves the untrammeled forces of guilt and the absence of self-preservation that almost any healthy instinctual or virile capacity is beyond them, except as a reaction to a prior threat.

Only when we recover the sense of dynamism that we seem to have partly lost will we have a future: here in the United States, here in California, or in the Western World as a whole. Many other groups in this world wonder about what is happening to us; wonder what has happened to our energy. Don’t be surprised if you learn that many of the elites in foreign countries, in India and China and so on, view with bemused amazement the trajectory of the present West, the degree to which the West is so self-hating: about its own music, about its own art, about its own architecture, about its own military history.

♣

Why won’t Caucasian and European people wake up to Eurocentric verities? One of the major halting elements in the re-energization of our own people is the mass media. Then there’s just the effect of “prole-feed” as George Orwell called it in 1984.

Only when you can break through the carapace of the mass media, with all its multiple Gorgon-like heads and its Hydra-like amphitheater—only when you can break through that, using the Internet, have you a chance to embolden the necessary vanguard of our own population.

♣

What is happening here and elsewhere in the West is the biggest test that Western people have faced for a very long period. In the past threats are always perceived as external. All the enemies that we now face are internal. And the biggest enemies that we face are in our own minds. The feeling that we shouldn’t say this, shouldn’t write this, shouldn’t speak this, shouldn’t think this. These are the biggest enemies that we have. We’re too riddled with post-Christian guilt. We’re too riddled with philo-Semitism. We’re too riddled with a sense of failure, funk, and futility in relation to the European, the Classical, and the High Middle Ages. We’re too defensive. We’re not aggressive and assertive enough as a group.

What will it take for the bulk of people who leave Western universities to have the middle or common denominator view of the people in this room? It will take an earthquake. But it’s not that difficult to achieve, once you get people thinking in a dissentient way.

I was involved with a nationalist party in Britain for quite a long time. With a project that has seemed to fail and have come to nothing, even though people were elected to the European Parliament. But at the end of the day people are only changed when their cultural sensibilities shifts. And when there is a release of energy, and a release of power, and a release of self-assertion. That is the change that you seek. Electoral change and advantage results from that, rather than the other way around. Getting a few people elected will not suffice, in my view, at the present time. What will suffice is a counter-current, and a counter-cultural revolution, which reverses the processes of the 1960s.

The Marxians have marched through the institutions of the last 50 years because the doors were swinging open for them. They hardly had to kick them down because they were swinging open for them.

All the doors are shut to us. We must find ways to work our way around these doors and reconnect with the new minds of our upcoming generations.

One of the reasons that this will happen is that people in the Western world at the moment are chronically bored. There’s a boredom that has settled upon our people. You can sense it. There’s a spiritual torpor out there. And the most exciting ideas, the most threatening ideas, the most psychopathological ideas, the ideas which are beyond all other ideas, are the ideas which are in this room. They are the most dangerous ideas and therefore they have a subtle attraction to radical and dissident minds.

But there is a natural tendency to kick; there is a natural tendency to kick against the system which is in place. And politically correct Liberalism is an enormous target to be attacked. And it is fun to attack it. And it is life-affirming to attack it.

And my view is that people will be attracted in the future not by reason. They will read up with their reason once they have decided to emotionally commit. The important thing is to get people emotionally. The power of irrational belief is immensely powerful. Far more powerful than the anything the Left can offer.

If you can tap these forces of—in some respects—codified irrationalism, if you can bring them to the surface, if you can bottle them, you will tap the energies of future generations of majority Americans. And you will do so because it appears to be extraordinarily interesting. More interesting than anything else. More threatening than anything else. More shocking than anything else. And that is something that the Right should actually in my view heighten, in a civilized and persuasive way.

One should never lose sight of the reason that people are opposed to our ideas is because they are thrilled to be frightened by them. They are thrilled to be appalled by them. It is the political equivalent of Satanism to many people. I’m saying nothing that is at all original. And in doing so we actually make ourselves tremendously attractive at certain levels of consciousness—not to some Southern Baptist chapter, admittedly. But you make yourself tremendously psychologically appealing. You may not have a halo over your head but you are transfigured in a sort of dark and sepulchral light, which makes you deeply spiritually ambivalent to people who exist now. And that contains the prospect of growth and the prospect of renewal.

Thank you very much!