If you want to make a difference in the real world
read “Where are the Syssitias?”
If you want to make a difference in the real world
The hilarious preface of Griffin’s biography about Pierce—my previous post: here—shows what I have been trying to say: that Little Red Riding Hoods, as I call women in my soliloquies (“Caperucitas” in my native language) have no place in a Syssitia guild for priests of the 14 words.
Las Caperucitas think with their emotions, not with their heads. Our guilds must be Boys Only Clubs.
Here in Mexico the only whites who have remained pure blooded Aryans for generations are the Mennonites. They forbid their Little Reds to learn Spanish—the language to contact the mud world—and know only a sort of German dialect.
From The Fame of a Dead Man’s Deeds:
An Up-Close Portrait of William Pierce
by Robert Griffin
Cattle die, and kinsmen die,
And so one dies oneself;
One thing I know that never dies:
The fame of a dead man’s deeds.
—Pre-Christian Norse poem.
It was a little after 7:00 p.m. on one of the pleasant summer evenings I had come to expect in the mountains of West Virginia. I was waiting for William Pierce in his cluttered, book-lined office in the National Alliance headquarters building. I had been living in this remote area on Pierce’s property for over two weeks at that point. When I had come to his office a couple of minutes before, I was surprised to find that Pierce wasn’t there. We were well into a series of interviews I was conducting with him in the evenings, and he’d always been here when I arrived. I assumed that something had held him up and that he would be along in a minute or two. I set up my tape recorder and went over the notes I had put together about the areas I wanted to explore during that night’s session.
I had just finished going through my notes when out of the corner of my eye I saw someone come in through the door to the left of where I was seated. It wasn’t Pierce but rather his new wife, with Pierce right behind her. That surprised me; always before, Pierce had been alone.
“Bob, could you and I talk after you talk with Bill?” Pierce’ s wife said in her halting, heavily-accented English and in her polite and gentle way. She had come from Eastern Europe to West Virginia less than a year before. She and Pierce had not met before she came, and after she was here only a month they married. Pierce’s wife is an attractive woman of about fifty I would guess, with auburn hair and very fair skin. She had taught art to children in her native country. I was taken by her calling him “Bill.” She was the only one who lived or worked on the property who did. To everyone else, including me, he was Dr. Pierce. She seemed on edge about something. She was usually smiling and upbeat, but not now.
“Oh, why don’t you two talk now,” Pierce interjected gruffly. “You don’t have to wait until later.”
With that, Pierce’s wife sat down on the nearest of a row of chairs that face Pierce’s desk. I was seated a couple of chairs away from the one she sat on. Pierce went around his desk and took a seat behind it.
There we were, the three of us. It was silent for a moment. There was tension in the air, but I had no idea what it was about.
Pierce’s wife turned and faced me. “I have something to ask of you,” she said. She seemed shaken.
“Is there something wrong?” I asked.
“I’m afraid,” she replied.
“Bill gets letters from people who say they are going to kill him. I was here for four months before I knew that. I didn’t know that!”
“You do look frightened,” I said.
“I’ve asked Bob [Bob DeMarais, an aide to Pierce] if something happens to Bill to help me return to my country.”
I didn’t know what to say, and up to that point Pierce hadn’t said anything.
“In your book,” she continued, “please don’t use my name or say where I am from. And please don’t show my picture. I am afraid something will happen to me if people know who I am.”
I said I didn’ t want to see her afraid like this, and that I would use some other name for her, and that I wouldn’t say what country she was from or use her picture.
“Thank you,” she said. “That is very nice of you.”
At this point, still seated, she dipped her hand into her pants pocket and pulled out a pistol. I jumped. “I carry this everywhere I go,” she said as she held the gun neck high in her right hand to display it to me.
I was speechless and stared at the gun.
“Don’t be waving that gun around, it’s loaded!” Pierce barked.
“You maybe think it is silly I have a gun,” she said to me, the pistol now in her lap. “But Bill wears a gun all the time. He has it right next to him when he goes to sleep.”
As a matter of fact, Pierce had a holstered weapon strapped to his waist at that very moment—I’d gotten used to that. I reiterated that I would protect her identity.
So I will call Pierce’s wife Irena in the book. It is the only name I have changed.
“Liberalism, [Anthony Ludovici] avers, by exhausting itself on the least able and weakest, by elevating pity to a virtue out of envy for the able, had saddled the economy with a welfare state that encourages the proliferation of criminals and idle imbeciles…”
A passage from This Time the World
by George Lincoln Rockwell
Dedication to: Adolf Hitler
Like spiritual giants before you—you were cursed and driven to death by spiritual pygmies for daring to stand up for a new and vital truth. Your heroic people lie silent, bound in golden chains and torn between the two criminal gangs of Bolsheviks and Zionists.
I helped to bomb and burn millions of your brave young men. Your blue-eyed young mothers were raped and murdered by Soviet and Negro savages. The millions of little blond boys and girls you loved so well lie moldering in acres of devastation and ruin. Millions of my fellow Americans, British, French and others of our racial comrades, all as ignorant as I once was, were slaughtered and maimed fighting for these same two filthy gangs of Zionists and Bolsheviks.
The Weltfeind cringes like the Devil at the sign of the cross. Your mighty spirit has inspired millions with the Holy Truth. From all over the earth, faintly at first, comes the sound of marching boots—louder and louder they grow! Listen! They are singing!
“Die Fahne Hoch! Die Reihen fest geschlossen!”
Out of the mud and slime of lies, your holy red, white and black Swastika has been flung back into the skies in Virginia, United States of America, and we pledge you our lives, Adolf Hitler, that we shall not flag or fail until we have utterly destroyed the forces of Marxism and darkness.
“It is necessary that I should die for my people; but my spirit will rise from the grave and the world will know that I was right.”
Huxley noted that all actions of extraordinary men in the Americanized future—given that their acts do not fall into the egalitarian scheme—“will be regarded as a crime.” He wrote, “In this reversal of the old values, I see a real danger, a menace to all desirable progress.”
—Homo Americanus, chapter 2
Reich Chancellery, 25th April 1942, midday
Meat and the vegetarian diet—Importance of raw food.
Dr. Göbbels asked whether a pound of potatoes had the same nutritive value as a pound of meat. The Fuehrer replied: As far as we know, the food of the soldiers of ancient Rome consisted principally of fruit and cereals. The Roman soldier had a horror of meat, and meat, apparently, was included in the normal rations only when the difficulty of obtaining other supplies made it inevitable.
One has only to keep one’s eyes open to notice what an extraordinary antipathy young children have to meat. Those who adopt a vegetarian diet must remember that it is in their raw state that vegetables have their greatest nutritive value. Our children to-day are much healthier than those of the Imperial and Weimar Republic periods because mothers now realise that they contribute far more to the health of their children if they give them raw vegetables and roots to chew than if they give them boiled milk.
I agree that the power of the state is the only thing forcing the races together, but the Christian religion, with its maniacal focus on overcoming everything natural, provides the perfect moral justification for this action. This is why, if the white race is to survive, both the state and the religion that supports it must be destroyed.
Berlin, 28th April 1942, at dinner
Budapest and Linz—Plans for a new Linz.
The Fuehrer turns to Speer: Budapest is by far the most beautiful city on the Danube. But I am determined to make of Linz a German town on the Danube which surpasses it, and by so doing to prove that the artistic sense of the Germans is superior to that of the Magyars.
Not only shall I have the bank of the river built up in a magnificent fashion, but also I intend to build a number of dwelling-houses which will be models of their kind.
Ten years after the end of the war Linz must have become the new metropolis of the Danube. I become daily more enthusiastic about this beautifying of Linz, and I think it is the reaction of the artistic sense in me. This city possesses something which no architecture, however magnificent, could give her—a unique natural situation. In spite of the bonds of affection which tie me to Linz, I can honestly say that it is its wonderful position which alone impels me to carry out the project. The Viennese would be quite wrong to worry that this might prove harmful to their monopoly, or to the cultural interests of the Alpine and Danubian Provinces.
Far be it from me to lessen the importance of Vienna, so long as she remains on a sound and solid foundation. But when one thinks of the truly unique position of Linz, it is impossible, simply out of consideration for the feelings of the Viennese, to give up the idea of making Linz the metropolis of the Danube. It would be a crime.