Saturday, March 25, 2017

Is HAC A "Terrorist"?

I recently had a kind of message from some good folks I know on the periphery of our Movement, the upshot of it being that they listen to Radio Free Northwest, they read their NF Bulletin, they wish me all the best and all that, but they can no longer be associated with me because I am a “terrorist” and if they are ever in any way connected with me by the FBI or some other secret police organ then they will “get in trouble.”

Well, the short answer to that is yes, you well may get in trouble if you’re in any way associated with me in the official mind. I’m not going to deny that, and all I can really tell you is that unless and until enough of us are willing to get into trouble with the government of the United States, life on this continent is going to become an unbearable hell on earth that no one of us can really imagine.

That’s the price of change. That is the price of making things better for our children and those yet to come. Somebody has to get in trouble. Are you willing to let your children, your grandchildren, and all of our children and grandchildren suffer contempt, oppression, servitude, desolation and murder because you’re a chickenshit coward who is afraid you’ll get in trouble?

If so, then you’ve got a lot of company. Most White men and women are too timid and frightened to do anything about all this. If the small number of us who are not can pull it off, then perhaps some day in the future all of you yellow dogs out there will live long enough for your own children spit on you.

Now let’s deal with that terrorism crap. In point of fact, no, I am not a “terrorist.” I would not be ashamed of it if I were. Terrorism is the weapon of the weak against the strong. It usually involves a very high risk of self-destruction and therefore regardless of what moron Jews and howling Republican idiots in the media say, it requires an immense amount of courage. I admit it: I do not have the personal courage of Bob Mathews or Joseph Paul Franklin or Joe Stack.

What I am is a writer and, for the past nine years, a speaker with a very small audience. In real life our weekly number of hits on our podcast would fill a medium-sized auditorium, although probably one out of four attendees would be Jews or media or undercover cops or Goat Dancers or strange little men from That Nineties Show. If you don’t know what all the fuss is about, read my Northwest independence novels. You can order them online.

To make this long story as short as possible, it is true that in one sense what I do is an act of treason. I speak of the death of the king, and in medieval and Renaissance times that was quite literally treason, as in head-lopping and boiling-in-oil and being burned at the stake treason. For many centuries in Europe not only was it treason to speak of the death of the king at all, but if you were into astrology, as most people were back then, it was treason to cast the king’s horoscope, because that might reveal the time and manner of his death. It was treason and punishable by death to speculate on who might succeed the king in the event of his death, which you weren’t supposed to be talking or thinking about to begin with.

Henry the Eighth was the worst about this kind of thing; if you even referred to any of his miscellaneous wives or children by the wrong title, depending on who was supposed to be legitimate that week and which religious faction was on top of the palace heap, you find yourself boiled in oil. Henry VIII was the only king of England who ever actually did that, by the way.

Anyway, what I’m getting at with my usual obscure historical references is that officially, in those days, the king was immortal, at least insofar as anything said or even hinted at in public went. Everyone had to pretend that the present was the permanent order of things and the monarch would never die. They all knew it was crap and they knew the king was mortal like everybody else, you just didn’t dare to say it.

Our own lords and masters are like that. Officially, Amurrica is forever. Some years ago a tame university egghead called Francis Fukuyama even wrote an entire essay to that effect, entitled The End of History. Therein he claims that liberal democracy is the ultimate form of government and that from now on mankind’s future is one long, endless strip mall where happy contented wage slaves will slurp Starbucks and gobble down Happy Meals while we are ruled from behind the scenes by soulless businessmen and executives in expensive suits, as well as a few rabbis in blue knitted skullcaps to whisper in the ears of the businessmen and executives.

I say that’s crap. I speak openly of the death of the king, of the end of Amurrica, and what’s worse I say out loud how I’m pretty much convinced it will end, by a breakup into several smaller black and brown and hippie-dippy ethnostates. I believe it is absolutely imperative for the future of all humanity, not just our own people, that when that happens, the White man must acquire an ethnostate of his own out of the wreckage, for use as an all-White homeland where our race can rest and recuperate and restore our numbers while the rest of the world goes to hell in a mass slaughter, as will inevitably occur in any society ruled by non-Whites.  I believe that the establishment of this White homeland will be attained through some kind of armed insurrection or confrontation between White Americans and the United States and its armed men.

That is a very dangerous opinion to hold. It is an even more dangerous opinion to speak out loud. Do you know why? Because I am right, and pretty much everybody knows it, even though some may not admit to the fact out of fear or self-interest.

This is not a matter of my inciting anything. I am simply making a factual observation that there are hundreds of millions of privately held firearms in this country, and that conditions are deteriorating to the point where eventually someone is going to load one of those firearms and shoot it at a politician, or a judge, or a congressman, or a multinational executive, or an FBI agent, or a cop, or a news anchor, or any one of the thousand and one people who are both actually and morally responsible for the America we were born into turning into an unspeakable horror show with subtitles in Spanish.

The feds cannot allow me to continue to say these things out loud. Someday someone might actually do something, and it won’t just be Joe Stack crashing his airplane into a mysteriously empty government building. It’s like a dog who starts killing chickens, or a bear or alligator who kills a person. Once it happens the animal has to be destroyed, because now he knows it can be done and how easy it is, and the regime can’t take the chance that White people might someday figure out that badges and black robes and briefcases and $2000 suits might be neat accessories, but they don’t make anybody bulletproof. Once that knowledge spreads, Amurrica is done for.

The FBI and other secret police agencies are charged with the task, not of enforcing laws, but of keeping the lid on, which is not the same thing. I’m not breaking any laws, but that’s never mattered much where we’re concerned and ever since the Edgar Steele case, it doesn’t matter at all. So yes, there is indeed a chance that if you are associated with me in any way, you will “get in trouble.”

Friday, March 24, 2017

The Moral Imperative Of Northwest Migration (2010)

Another plug for my HAC Classics re-print site.

Thursday, March 23, 2017

Job Training For Migrants In Idaho

A Northwest Tricolor at Lake Coeur d'Aleme

Caught this in the Spokesman-Review.  This may be a good opportunity for those young guys that dicked off in school to get free training on heavy equipment and possibly a job.  This will be occurring in June outside of Coeur d'Alene and the deadline to apply is April 1st.

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Harold's Quoting That Jew Again

[I'm sorry. I admit it; I'm a user and I'm hooked. A shameful failing but I am powerless in its grip. - HAC]
The Democrats reduced themselves to a gang of sadistic neo-Maoists seeking to eradicate anything that resembles free expression across the land in the name of social justice. Coercion has been their coin of the realm, and especially in the realm of ideas where “diversity” means stepping on your opponent’s neck until he pretends to agree with your Newspeak brand of grad school neologisms and “inclusion” means welcome if you’re just like us. I say Maoists because just like Mao’s “Red Guard” of rampaging students in 1966, their mission is to “correct” the thinking of those who might dare to oppose the established leader. Only in this case, that established leader happened to lose the sure-thing election and the party finds itself unbelievably out-of-power and suddenly purposeless, like a termite mound without a queen, the workers and soldiers fleeing the power center in an hysteria of lost identity.

They regrouped briefly after the election debacle to fight an imaginary adversary, Russia, the phantom ghost-bear, who supposedly stepped on their termite mound and killed the queen, but, strangely, no actual evidence was ever found of the ghost-bear’s paw-print.

-James Howard Kunstler

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Radio Free Northwest - March 23rd, 2017 

HAC on Obamacare repeal, precautions against entrapment, plus a long Getting Back To Basics spiel.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Do Not Allow Yourself To Be Entrapped

Guys, you need to click over onto the other blog and check this out. Look, I know this one is really long and White people today have trouble reading a large block of text for content. It hurts their heads, and they've been dumbed down to 140 character tweets. But this one is important. It may even be a matter of life and death. Please, give it a try.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

HAC On Ireland


Okay, it being Saint Patrick’s Day, or at least the day before Saint Patrick’s Day, I suppose now might be a good time for me to respond to the frequent requests I get to talk about Ireland from my own perspective. 

Like Rhodesia, I very seldom talk about Ireland because like Rhodesia, the country I knew no longer exists. I lived there for about five years in the 1980s, when it was for all intents and purposes the last all-White society in Europe. In a way Ireland is yet another White society I was privileged to see and live in the last of before it disappeared, just like Rhodesia under the British raj, and South Africa under apartheid, and my own native-born South under segregation. Bear that in mind. If at times I seem a bit cranky and irasible and impatient to you guys, remember, I saw and lived the old world, a lot of it, before it died, and it was a good world, and there is no excuse for what we did and what we have become. It pisses me off.  

Oh, it was already starting in Ireland, even then. It just started late there because during the 1980s the economy and unemployment were so terrible, and there was nothing there for the foreigners to steal. Almost an entire generation of young people left the country and a lot of them never went back. There were Chinese running hot food takeaways everywhere, with some Chinese gang activity in Limerick of all places, for some reason, and just in the years I was there I noticed a slow increase in the number of black faces in Dublin, but I went back to North Carolina in 1987 before the deluge really started.

I last visited Ireland in 1998 and already Dublin was barely recognizable; Moore Street had become a colony of Nigeria and the TV and other official culture was indistinguishable from any American city as far as political correctness and interracial crap goes; there were posters all over Temple Bar and elsewhere of Kenny the Kid from South Park, who for some reason had become a kind of pop hero. But okay, I’ll cut to the nub here, because what I observed in Ireland during that period definitely had a major effect on my political outlook as well as my writing, specifically the Northwest novels. 

Now, bear in mind I am speaking of the 1980s here, when the country was still all White and when the political and social dynamic was different from what it is today. Also, I spent most of my time in the Republic, the 26 Counties; I made a through trips through the North but never spent much time there, and those were and probably still are two very different places. What it’s like over there today I don’t really know, but the first-hand reports I get from the Green Land are not encouraging, put it that way.  

(Uh, you guys understand, don’t you, that all this stuff I’ve been talking about all this time, it can be done? You know that, right? We could accomplish and bring into being  everything I write about in the Northwest novels. Trouble is you guys would actually have to do some things, not just sit there absorbing it all as entertainment.) 

Where was I? Oh, yes, Ireland. Officially the I.R.A. was outlawed in the Republic as well as in the North, but in fact the Provisional I.R.A. more or less used the 26 Counties as a safe house and a staging area for attacks into Ulster, and so long as they behaved themselves while they were in the Republic, the Dublin government pretended they didn’t notice. For a long time in the 60s and 70s there was a kind of equipoise between the Leinster House régime and the Provos.; the way it was explained to  me was that “Neither side wants what the other can dish out." 

By the 1980s this unspoken arrangement was breaking down. The Provos were getting less Nationalist and more Marxist socialist; it was obvious Gerry Adams and the other leadership did think they were Padraig Pearse or Robert Emmet any more, they thought they were Che Guevara and Mao Tse-tung, and some of the lads starting pulling armed robberies and kidnappings and punishment beatings down in the Republic, trying to take over areas and divide up criminal rackets like they did up north in Belfast and Derry.  

That didn’t go over too well with the Dublin government, especially when all the kidnappings and kneecappings started scaring off the tourists. Inevitably there was all kind of spillover as the situation in the North deteriorated. This situation was of course a lot more complicated than I can possibly convey to anybody who wasn’t there.  

Every now and then a few of them would be tried for I.R.A. membership and gun charges, but that was when these guys had already shown their butts in other ways and the gun charges were tacked on to the violence and the robberies and general terrorism.  

The main thing I recall about life in the Republic at the time was that two of the conditions of the revolutionary Tripod had been fulfilled, notably that  there was in fact a fighting revolutionary part, left-wing though it was, I mean a literal fighting party like grandma and grandpa used to make. 

Secondly the Dublin government did not have a credible monopoly of armed force. Things got done off stage, things went boom and bang and thwack in the night and no one was caught or arrested or charged. What this meant was that in practice, what some Dublin bureaucrat or cop or judge or politician said, didn’t necessarily go. For those who were properly connected, there was a court of appeal.  

This is important to attain in our own society. We have to bring about a state of affairs where the word of some lying thief in an expensive suit, or some political gangster in a black robe, ain’t necessarily the last word, and in some cases the last word is spoken by men in ski masks who explain to the bad people exactly where their lines are and what they can and cannot do, in terms the bad people cannot fail to understand.  

Every one of these scum who rule us need to get up in the morning knowing that there are certain lines they cannot cross and certain things they cannot do. 

I have seen that situation in Ireland, and so I know it can be. You guys don’t, and that’s always been so much of the problem with me and you folks; I know all this stuff can be done because I’ve seen it and lived it; you’ve known nothing but American liberal democracy and American television and Rush Limbaugh, and so you think it’s all eternal and chiseled in stone forever. It isn’t.