Are these the intended beneficiaries of the "cause" that keeps me up at night, contemplating a dark(figuratively and literally) future of White dispossession and genocide, writing and researching in the hopes of somehow contributing to turning back the tide?
These corpulent sacks of human excrement, packed to the point of bursting, are probably the rule rather than the exception. The high ratings and unabated popularity of such ridiculous shows state that it is so. These are the empty amusements that the contemptible dregs among our Folk have chosen(?) to occupy their time and define their very existence...even as jewish banksters rob them blind by destroying the currency in their pocket and subhuman savage muds over-run the town in which they live. So long as the latest installment of their favorite form of "bread and circus" is delivered as promised and on time, they couldn't care less. They are completely oblivious to the cultural rot in which they wallow like pigs and has debased them so.
Knowing that such beached behemoths incapable of personal restraint are out there, and are what comprises the vast majority of our Folk(if not perhaps in girth, then certainly in mindset), it stands to reason that my spirits dampen when thinking about our plight, where we toil uncompensated to educate those who would curse us if given the chance, as per their jewthink programming.
But then I laser in and remember the spirit in which this blog was launched. It was never intended as an appeal to the wider masses. "Waking people up" was to be left to more devoted and capable minds than mine. No, my purpose was and is to communicate to those who already know the score. Call it "preaching to the choir" if you will, but that choir is more receptive to the truth and what must be done.
Compassion is an almost exclusively White trait, but it can be a dangerous and self destructive thing when that compassion is wasted on ingrates and the unworthy. By necessity a culling of the herd is going to be inevitable. Upwards of 95% of our kindred are likely going to end up as collateral damage before all is said and done. The survivors will comprise the nucleus that will rebuild our civilization, reclaiming our atavistic greatness, free of the chosenites and their deceptions and mental chains. "Never again!" will be our mantra, not theirs! The lies they've spun will be buried along with them.
I'm about to embark on a seemingly unrelated tangent here, but bear with me as I tie it all together.
After World War II a bunch of disaffected, angry, bored White men returned to the States, and to what was to be a return to civility and normality. These maladjusted misfits, whose manhood was forged on the killing fields of the Pacific and Europe, weened on a life of being fighter pilots and fighting men, did the next best thing to stave off the boredom of living among the "squares." They took up motorcycle riding.
They donned leather aviator jackets and adorned themselves with trophy Nazi regalia and formed clubs with names like The Booze Fighters, The Pissed Off Bastards of Bloomington, and The Hells Angels. They embarked on a life of beer drinking, hell raising, fucking and fighting that was at complete odds with the sensibilities of 1940's and 50's suburbia.
But motorcycling was also a respectable hobby. The American Motorcycle Association denounces the outlaw rabble in a written statement proclaiming that 99% of the hobbyists are fine, upstanding, and law abiding citizens. This fringe element was to be shunned. As a point of pride, the 1%er patch is born. It's a statement. "We're not citizens." It's an absolute repudiation of societal norms.
There is no hard data available, but I have surmised that among the truly racially conscious, those who will be willing to take the necessary steps for survival when push becomes shove, and live (and one day fight) accordingly, comprise about 1%. If you're reading this blog, and you don't find the heresies contained within it absolutely abhorrent, then you're a 1%er. Your mind isn't constrained by politically correct thought and force fed unreality. You're living on the societal edge. Wear that patch with pride. You might live alone with your ideals, surrounded by the walking dead and potential enemies who are your own kinsmen, but you belong to a sacred Brotherhood. One that hasn't had our atavistic greatness indoctrinated out of us. One that knows the score. One that knows we're going to win.