[My comments to this friendly letter from the author of the 1-to-1 combat series are in brackets.

Thanks James,

great to hear from you and cheers for Cube, am just finishing LaMotta's autobiography and will need some good fiction haha.

[When I saw that Jeth bought Orphan Nation from the site e-store I sent a copy of Cube, since it is combat arts based fictions set in a future that returns to overt ownership of humans by companies, just as The Virginia Company, The Royal African Company and the East India Company, or ‘John Company’ as Burton, one of its officers, described it. LaMotta’s biography was kind of bleak, especially his remorse over beating the old jew with a pipe in the alley.]

Man, Orphan Nation is quite a read James. I perhaps made the mistake of binge reading it last night and it's almost overwhelming in places to take in the scale of it as well as the anger it induces. 

[The entire Plantation America project has kindled a smoldering determination in me, which does sometimes rise to actual anger in conversation with believers in the American Lie, who insist I swallow their delusion. I never get angry reading or writing, except when I am tasked by a reader with the sacred duty of Negro Worship. That is a good reason not to re-poen the Crackpot Mailbox. You see, reading and writing, even of horrible facts, soothes me somehow. Since I have joined the undead on December 11, 2017, I have only experienced anger a few times, mostly when young men of my race have threatened me for refusing to alter my brain chemistry according to their favorite method.]

It also triggered a google rabbit hole of reading (The other chapters will similarly do the same) on "Dr" Barnardo - what a fucking creep. 

[This man admitted in court to abducting and selling children over 80 times and was never convicted! He stands as strident testament to the FACT that Great Britain and Her devil spawn USG are Satanic devices for the devouring of our souls.]

In Grafting a new branch, you wrote:

“A lost friend is another wound in our procession into death.”

[I have not considered, until now—perhaps you found me stumbling upon the idea in 2021—that the millions of abducted children and youths torn from friends and often family, left behind orphans of a stranded kind. With 10,000 tykes a year sold off to a likely death and a nearly certain discontinuance of their blood, out of Great Britain alone, how many holes were left in the lives of those who escaped the sackmen? Recently, a friend of mine underwent a severer psychic break, based largely on the loss of a third of his friends over the past 3 years of Covid isolation paranoia. In an orphaned society, such as the Modern West, where family is mostly dead, the loss of even a single friend is a deep wound for many.]

I found this whole chapter to be spot on, I've been dealing with the loss of a best friend of many years earlier this year and this really hit home. 

[I never considered the effect of reading this series on Brits, naively assuming that you all would not be interest in the subject.]

The observation of later life friends being from combat training or online writing are also particularly true.

[For all of the faɡɡotry or the Sissy Western World, the extreme feminist emasculation of this degenerate global homosexual society has made of ritual combat arts an island of sanity. I am sad, and dead inside, now that I may no longer participate in competition or sparring. But, I got to live and to meet better men through these arts mostly because we live under the Satanic Quean. As well, as much as I hate technological living, this accursed internet, this web of satanic manipulation, has enabled me to meet in person as many internet friends as gym met men. As BITCH World waxes and then becomes Trannydom we do have friends and comrades met along the very monstrous pathways designed to bind us, bringing the maze of Minos to mind.]  

And here I wanted to thank you for helping me with my work this end and for doing so without any ask in return - thank you James.

[Thank you Jeth. It makes me sad that we will never shake hands.]

Here's to casting a dart into that all seeing eye my friend.

[I would like to report, that The Colonel, who I wintered with in the Cascades above Seattle, one of Satan’s favorite hives, has escaped the shadow of USG into a very remote wilderness valley in the high northern Rockies. If my health holds, I hope to visit him there. He was an officer in the same unit your Uncle served in, the Army Rangers. Hopefully he will not run into a grizzly cow wearing a Pentagon designed strap-on dildo…]

Warm regards,

Jeth

[My only remaining purpose on this wasted world is to cast said darts into that monstrous eye.]

…

Thanks James.

My author page is: 

My writing is over at:

The articles are a mix of free and paywalled to stop me from hanging myself with thought crime and also getting ripped off, usual story these days.