Last night he approached me, the man for whom my kind, and his grandparent’s varied kind, and the other intact races of man shall be ushered off the planet to make way for.
He was tall and well formed, of slightly muted golden skin, gold if it could tarnish. His hair was the felt-like composite of round Asian hair, light Caucasian locks and genetically straightened afro, that one only gets by mixing a mulatto with a Caucasian-Asian hybrid: half Caucasian, one quarter Asian and one quarter black.
The young fellow inquires, in English, un-muddled by the slouching portion of his heritage, as to his bus connect, his safety, the distance—all of the many things a woman would ask, knowing that she couldn’t handle what the night brings when the savages from Fox Ridge come hunting at midnight. His meek, polite demeanor and off-putting appearance elicited my help, and as he sat, wondering if the hunters would get him after I left, or if he would luck out and catch the #24 to Whispering Woods before the raiders caught him, I could not help but recall that he is the color that every white woman attempts to achieve when she goes tanning, the color that every black woman wishes she were, the color that a team of anthropologists declared about a decade ago, that the entire human race would be before this century was done.
There he sat, the perfect, bland, nonthreatening, mono-cropped human—the apogee of the domesticated hominid, an ape that The God of Things could trust, the ape that would seek nothing but safety, security, comfort, pleasure and approval, the globalists endgame, the dent corn of sapient grain. There he sat, beautiful and useless as a dick on Sister Assumpta, the ancient nun that presided over my first year of indoctrination into the lie that is this nation, the nation that looks at this pretty, experimental drone on that bus stop bench—his chin in his hands wondering about nothing more than what a rabbit considers as it eats clover at dawn—and names him not only black of race, but a man, that term having been reduced to mere biology.
I have spent my life, since I finally learned how to read, wondering about early man, the age of exploration, the massive loss of cultural diversity ushered in by the wooden ships and iron men who cast a net around the world and drew it tight. Having always been fascinated by the idea of exotic races living in remote places, here I stood under the bright light of the falling moon, next to a designer person who looked like he could have been the crown prince of some sissy fairyland, in the most remote place urban blight and transit planning can produce—and I wondered.
Having grown up and worked with a number of Jews, I have many times been afflicted by their terminal question. Upon finding out I read a lot of history, all 9 of the Jewish people I have been close to, have asked me a version of the following question:
“We are taught that no other people has been hunted and persecuted like the us, that no other people have been the subject of an attempted extermination, that no other people have had their children killed, that no other people have been branded like cattle. Is this true?”
Always feeling pity for people who have been so extensively lied to and brainwashed, I have never said “no,” nor could I say “yes” with a clear conscience. My answers tended to sound something like this, pulled off the top of my head: Neanderthals, Tasmanians, Henderson Islanders, Canaanites, Knossians, Trojans, Thespians, Aeginetians, Naxosians, Etruscans, Thebans, Carthaginians, Thracians, Sybarites, Thassosians, Israelites, Dacians, the ten tribes that Alexander wiped out—whatever they called themselves, Irish, The Raccoons, the Big Waters, The Allegheny, the Wompanoag, Mandoag, Timucan, Arawak, Taino, the people of Darien, the seven distinct sub-races of the Canary Islands, Hottentots, Susquehannocks, Potomacs, Nanticokes, Jomon, the Uruguayan Aboriginies, the Paraguayans [most complete modern genocide of a civilized state], Armenians, Ukrainians, European Jewry, Don Cossacks, Gypsies, Cambodians, Rwandan merchants & herdsmen at the hands of their banana farmers neighbors…
I have butchered some of these names, having used no book, but you get the point. These folks either left me, head hung low, or they began to debate:
I answer that every single Tasmanian was hunted and murdered, that most Indian tribes slaughtered the children of the tribes they rubbed out, etc. Now I can add that the Irish were branded.
The point is, when I was recently asked this question by a Jewish person, it occurred to me that the world we live in is such a refined lie that it does not make sense—you must believe.
Think of the three foundational beliefs of postmodern ethical history:
1. Only the blacks have been enslaved, based on their race [hello Irish and Slavs, after whom the name slave was formed]
2. Only European Jewry has been the subject of a genocide. [Actually the Romans did a better job in 70s A.D. Judea on the Jews than the Nazis did with modern technology.]
3. Only European Christians and Nazis systematically killed people based on their ethnicity.
We live in a world where the basic driving force of human history is denied and assigned to a few maniacs and white people. The same powers that wish us to believe these lies want us to become one race.
Towards the end of becoming more hated, I will take some time every once in a while, over the coming years, to research and properly present one of the main cases I typically spout off about. Look for these short, uplifting accounts under this tag, Against the Golden Race.
A Partial Exhumation of the American Dream