Yesterday, in a brief debate with the star of Tory Euroscepticism Daniel Hannan - it had to be brief because he has no time to waste on the BNP, apparently - I was informed that:

I’ve already explained why I fundamentally reject your definition of Britishness, and why I am glad we define nationality in civic rather than ethnic terms. The more one thinks about your arbitrary cut-off point, the sillier it is. Why include the Dutch who came over with William III? Or the Hugueonots? Or the Flemish weavers? Or the Normans? Or the Danes? Or the Saxons? Or the Romans?

That was on the subject of whether his own English people (actually, he’s half-Irish) have the same right to life as any other people, and this was on the subject of whether they have, in addition, the same right to land:

Who has the right to land? He who owns it in law, whether through inheritance, purchase or gift.

And this creature, in all his anti-English civicism and fatuous libertarianism, is supposed to be an Old Marlburian and an Oxford grad, and high-grade political material.

His problem, of course, is that there is a certain depth and gravity to the argument we bring to the MSM threads which no one, and certainly not he, can match, and with which many are completely unfamiliar.  We talk about existence and genocide, natural rights and interests, power and coercion, political corruption and deception.  We shock.  We break taboos.  We challenge complacency, received wisdom, the habitual way of doing things.  When we go on the threads we do so as revolutionaries.  We are there to change everything.  We are there to fight, and we fight to win.  This is where we validate not just our politics but our racial selves: where we can be useful and contribute to the cause.  This is where we can demonstrate that we are not what our enemies say we are, that the enemy’s ideological position is easily destroyed, and that the path we have taken is true and right for others to follow.  For did we not also benefit from others who have performed this same small service?

It is important, then.  It is important that we do the job well.  So I thought I would pull together some of the rules of thread warfare as I understand them.  Again.  As ever, your own thoughts and experiences of what works in which media would be appreciated.

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by Last Celt

Earlier this week, Horst Seehofer, the leader of the CDU’s Bavarian sister party, the CSU, said it was “obvious that immigrants from different cultures like Turkey and Arab countries, all in all, find it harder” to integrate.

“Multikulti’ is dead,” Mr Seehofer said.

Earlier this month the chancellor held talks with Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan, in which the two leaders pledged to do more to improve the often poor integration record of Germany’s estimated 2.5 million-strong Turkish community.

BBC. October, 2010

Multiculturalism is pronounced dead! However, notice the call for integration; it’s too early to celebrate.

Similarly, last Saturday the British Prime Minister David Cameron declared the multicult a failure. But look at this comment of Cameron’s:

On the one hand, those on the hard right ignore this distinction between Islam and Islamist extremism, and just say that Islam and the West are irreconcilable – that there is a clash of civilizations. So, it follows: we should cut ourselves off from this religion, whether that is through forced repatriation, favoured by some fascists, or the banning of new mosques, as is suggested in some parts of Europe . These people fuel Islamophobia, and I completely reject their argument. If they want an example of how Western values and Islam can be entirely compatible, they should look at what’s happened in the past few weeks on the streets of Tunis and Cairo : hundreds of thousands of people demanding the universal right to free elections and democracy.

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This, the opening speech of Geert Wilders to the Dutch court trying him right now, is three days old now.  But it is interesting:

Of course, the Dutch problem with immigration of Moslems is on a different scale to our experience in England, and the focus upon it is bound to be greater.  But it is difficult to see from Wilders’ plaints against Islam then against the Dutch and EU elites whether he knows who he is really fighting in that courtroom.  What is the point of attacking Islam except as part of the attack on the elites?  Rather strange.

Thanks to Bill for the link.

by Christian Miller ©

Christian has asked me to explain at the outset that by no means does he claim to cover all the ground of raising our children as self-aware members of the white race.  But he is hoping to spark some discussion among readers and perhaps some new ideas about this extremely important subject.
GW

Above all, a White child must be raised to exhibit White behavior: to strive towards truth, honor, and a virtuous life.  Exemplary White men and White women from the past and present provide guidance for behavior expected in the future.  Familiarity with admirable White role models will help protect a developing mind from poisonous, nonsensical, cowardly, and traitorous ideas.  The alternative is the loss of yet another young White mind and spirit, overwhelmed from all sides in today’s twisted and subversive society. 

Popular music and professional sports are teeming with African themes of criminality, cruelty, misogyny, egotism, and debased and debauched behavior.  Television, movies, and advertising are infected with a virulent strain of anti-White propaganda.  Academia, mainstream news, politicians, and pundits provide a persistent message of White guilt, racial nihilism, and shrill condemnation of any manifestation of White pride or White identity.  Jewish ownership and control of the media is so pervasive that Jewish media figures feel secure enough to boast thereof.  Yet to an untrained observer, the subversion towards Jewish interests or anti-White propaganda can be difficult to spot because it is designed to permeate the unconscious brain.  The viewer, or victim, is supposed to feel and absorb, not think and reflect.  Conscientious White parents must prepare their children with the analytical tools to see through the façade. 

An inert consumer, or a passive viewer, will unconsciously accept the bald-faced lies and distortions via the path of the least resistance.  Floating down the river in a stupefied trance is easier than swimming upstream against the tide of brainwashing.  Responsible White parents must be vigilant and tirelessly optimistic while pursuing their most important endeavor—raising the next generation of the White race.

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by Alexander Baron

This is a sort of supplement to my essay Oscar Wilde: The Straight Truth About A “Gay” Icon that was published here last month. There are two further points I would like to make: one relating to the decadence of Wilde, the other about the decadence of modern society. To take the first point first; as I pointed out, after Wilde withdrew from the criminal libel prosecution, Lord Queensberry bankrupted him. Mostly it is taken for granted that but for this, Wilde would have been able to keep his head above water. This is not necessarily the case.

According to the Law Report for August 26, 1895 which was published in The Times the following day, at a first meeting of his creditors, Wilde was said to have unsecured liabilities of £2,676 and partly secured debts of £915.

His assets were primarily the royalties on his “literary works” and a “life policy”. He declared his income from these as not less than £2,000 per annum; he had 10% of the gross weekly receipts from his play The Importance Of Being Earnest - gross, not net - and 15% over that.

The bill for his aborted criminal libel action was £677, an enormous sum in those days, but nowhere near as large as his income; according to the Times, “it appeared that the debtor had been insolvent for some time past”.

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For the last four or five weeks the Daily Telegraph’s new, relatively open comment policy has been reaping a distasteful reward for the Establishment stick-in-the-muds who normally read the paper.  Dozens of commenters have been encouraged to comment on “issue” threads in an increasingly eye-raising way.  Suddenly, it is possible to say almost anything, and possible, therefore, to influence discourse.

That possibility I suggested to articulate BNP members here a week and a half ago.  They weren’t interested.  But I am.  If any MR readers think it worthwhile operating on these threads as a team, working to stretch the envelope and get the right message out ahead of the misguided one, please feel free to say so.

To give you some idea of the kind of freedom of expression currently available here are four current “issue” threads:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/immigration/8302637/British-most-concerned-about-immigration.html#dsq-content
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/religion/8304545/The-days-of-doing-deals-with-Muslim-extremists-are-over.html#dsq-content
http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/news/benedictbrogan/100074737/david-cameron-takes-on-the-ideology-of-islamist-extremism/#dsq-content
http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/news/edwest/100074751/wikileaks-americans-call-leicester-the-most-conservative-islamic-community-in-europe/#dsq-content

by I. Bismuth

Semi-jogging home along Market Street this afternoon, I passed a lone beauty at a bus stop. And after passing her, I mused to a halt, for I had heard her, or thought I had heard her, speak certain words into her mobile, words that are totally unacceptable in a decent society. Taking a breather (of which, inhabiting the body of a man half my age, I had no need) I made a show of staggering back towards the suspect, and leaned against the stop.

My intention was to monitor the remainder of her call and catch a possible repetition of the offending vocables, but by the time I could sag within eavesdropping range, she was saying good bye, love you, and now here was her bus.

This was frustrating. I did not have much on her, but letting her go would send the wrong message, if only to her loved interlocutor. Besides, she was guilty all right. She was guilty of having made herself a suspect. It was unthinkable that there would be no consequences.

Feeling I could gather more evidence from an entrapping interview with her before turning her in, I followed her on board and to the upper deck. She sat at the front. Waiting for my chance, I occupied the seat directly behind her and breathed on her hair.

But once the bus had moved off and I looked behind us, I saw that, after all, waiting was unnecessary. I had assumed I would have to let the other passengers disembark before I could tackle her in peace, but there were only five of them, and they were already gone. They were well gone. The first was shouting in Swahili up his sleeve, the second was being spasmodic to rhythms throbbing from his headphones like off-shored industry, the third was snoring, the fourth was cutting his toenails, and the fifth appeared to have been dead for several days.

So, satisfied I could go to work on her unmolested, I leaned slowly forward, tilted my head reassuringly, and whispered in her ear, “Don’t be frightened.”

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An enormously big lumberjack, who was also a bully, took a delight in tormenting the Chinese whenever they appeared at the company store.  He thought it especially hilarious to trip them when they were loaded with supplies and going out the door.  Also he kept alive and continually embellished the mistake of the intended bride being placed in the brothel.  His joy in that joke on these small stature people, when his only pride was his bulk and strength, reached to inexhaustible extremes.  The hatred that the Chinese felt for him is fully understandable when the stories told show that the other loggers were ashamed that he was one of them.  The Chinese had become well enough acquainted with the logger’s ways to understand most of the foul jokes and to understand that this man’s attitude didn’t represent that held by most of the others.  The other loggers continually admonished the bully with “you wouldn’t talk like that to a man who was big enough to challenge you to a fight.”

Then one day when this remark was made after the usual taunts from the giant logger it brought a memorable response from one of the Chinese.  The target at the moment was a slight, sensitive-faced Chinese man named Lin Tse who had come into the store alone.  The fury that had been burning showed itself in this man who contained it with the patient endurance that countless centuries had bred in his being.  It didn’t leap into flame; it glowed with a small controlled dignity like some unearthly fire.

Lin’s purchase was only a small package and although there was a big audience of men gathered in the store the bully didn’t think it worthwhile to trip him as he went out.  He contented himself with foul worded jokes.  Lin heard the other loggers disapproval expressed in “you’d be more careful with a man who was big enough to fight you.”  Lin Tse knew the full meaning of the fight to which the words referred and his understanding and deliberation created drama when he turned and faced the bully and the roomful of men with dignity.

The surprise of his turning to meet them instead of hurrying out the door as unobtrusively as possible caused a hush to fall.  In the waiting silence his words were clear and in fully understandable English, “If you gentlemen will ensure a fair fight, I will meet this man.”

There was only a short pause before someone said enthusiastically, “Let’s give them guns.  That’s the only way to make a fair fight in this case.”

The foreman was there and spoke up.  “No.  We’ve all agreed.  No more guns.  I’d like to see the little guy have his chance, but the judge said if there’s another suspicious shooting every man here will face trial as an accomplice of a murderer.

Before an argument developed on the point Lin announced, “I do not want guns.  Fifteen meters of strong cordage in addition to a knife will make an equal fight if there’s a big area that has not been logged clean.”

The big man didn’t like the sound of things and, with a guffaw, he tried to go back to the joking game, “He wants to tie me up before he fights me.”  He pulled the end of the rope from a nearby coil, threw it at Lin, and held out his wrists with, “Here, let’s see you do it.”

No one laughed.  The men were all on their feet and approaching the little man with an interest that was clearly that of a wolf pack moving up on a fight, but also with a silence that verged on becoming a reverent calm.  They asked what he could do with a length of cordage.

Lin answered, “Man is intelligent.  His intelligence makes him a fit opponent for a bear or even an elephant.  With a knife and a cord a man can make a spear, or a bow and arrow, or a trap.  He can do many things.  He can fight with his intelligence, not just his bulk or his skill in handling a gun.  But surprise is necessary to use intelligence.  Man does not show the bear how he plans to trap him.  I think it is fair that I and this man-bear have equal knives and lengths of cord but do not tell how we will use them.”

The trap had been sprung.  A man had used the weight of a mob for an intelligent purpose by appealing to fair play rather than the usual half-sleeping mob tendencies toward turning a fight into mob entertainment.  The bully tried all the jokes and tricks he had learned in his attempt to put a laughing, leering mob behind him, but the mob weight was all used to make him accept the challenge on the fair terms stated.  He wanted to reduce the size of the combat area but they insisted on making it big enough to give strategy its due weight.

The fight lasted a day and an night and well into the next day.  Three times the big man tried to come out but the jeers of the others drove him back.  At twilight on the second day, when everyone was preparing to go into another all night vigil, Lin appeared at the designated place and said calmly, “A man is dead in the woods.  Would some of you gentlemen help me carry him out.”

If the method Lin used to bring down the big man was ever known, it isn’t of record, but the occasion touched the imagination of the men.  An area big enough to permit strategy, a knife with a 25 cm blade, too short for sophisticated swordsmanship, and a fifteen meter length of cordage, strong enough to jerk up a big man’s weight, became the criteria of a fair fight.

Whether it was: (1) Simple fear of the unknown when contemplated through light and dark hours in the forest or (2) a new respect for the unknown in people, when meeting those different from oneself; would be hard to determine; but the number of deaths by unstated causes in Camp 38 decreased after the establishment of those criteria for fairness.

p. 123-125 “Camp 38: Current Model of Northern European Lifestyle Before Christianity” by Jill von Konen, ISBN 0-914752-19-7, Sovereign Press, 326 Harris Rd., Rochester, WA 98579