Nero the Pict ventured south of Yo Adrian’s Wall to snatch me from the city of sin, for a tour of certain small Pennsylvania towns. I recorded some of his stories about dealing with thugs and pigs in Harm City. Essentially he spent from his early teens to his early thirties in this pit of iniquity, broken by a few journeys and the occasional parental shuffle to Cumberland Maryland [basically West Virginia] that was the fate of Gen-X divorce children. Below is the general outline of his Harm City life, narrated to me as he drove, an interesting life punctuated by some bitter insanity and stark violence, that will be the subject of various Harm City articles.
“I have some physical limitations that I am well aware of. But I knew I’d have some genetic chance, ever since I saw my father knock all of the teeth out of this guy’s face—and let me tell you he deserved it—when I was four. My father was a really good dude, would take me out in the woods to play Indians and teach me how to make a bow and arrows. He encouraged me to read. I spent some time out in Cumberland, which is a beautiful old town, but is now a resettlement community for the baby’s mammas of the guys locked up in the three prisons they’ve built out there. The heroin problem is just ridiculous.
“My mother is this total liberal who thinks the system has the answer for everything and I was caught in this aggression zone in Baltimore that the ‘system’ had zero impact on. So I learned to fight and to act, to use psychological warfare. I’ve been robbed by hoodrats and robbed by cops—have been there at the point of the gun, almost killed by both sides in the same war in the same day. I’m no cop-hugger. There is no way you could be a working class white dude on foot in Baltimore City and like the cops. It just doesn’t add up. My plan was to save some money and travel in Asia. I worked primarily in high end steak houses, phony Irish pubs, hipster bars and was careful to save money.
“I traveled to Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand. If you’re not an idiot the dollar goes a long way. I was basically living on the side of a cliff with a squat toilet for two dollars a day. If you like to read, backpacking through Southeast Asia can be a phenomenal experience. I did not get involved with any local women. It quickly became apparent that these women coming down from Laos to work in factories were being trafficked. No way was I going to have relations with a sex slave. If that need ever came up there was always the German backpacker girls who I occasionally drank with.
“I returned to the U.S. via San Francisco—broke. I’m working in a very high end hotel and renting a bunk in a room I’m sharing with six guys for twelve-hundred-and-fifty a month. I just couldn’t save any money out there. I had plans to work in a kitchen on a ranch outside of Cody Wyoming—a friend of mine had suggested this to me. But I wanted to travel more and knew people in Baltimore. In Baltimore I can make good money, rent a cheap room and save enough money to travel the world. All of my British friends pleaded with me not to go back to Baltimore, said they could not imagine anyone returning to the place I told them about—all the horror stories with the hoodrats and the cops.
“The bus just became unbearable, simply an insane option for a white guy trying to get around the place that Baltimore had become. I worked in a box factory with a Croation refugee on the run—a real interesting guy who basically predicted, ten years ago, that all this shit was going to happen. He said that from the outside America looked stable. But once he experienced what it was like living here he was convinced that this place was going to go the way of Yugoslavia.
“I worked for a discount movie theater chain, in various restaurants, rented a room from a former drug dealer from West Baltimore who was reforming himself and was a really good dude. I’ve just known too many blacks who were good people, to buy the line that they’re all bad. And I’ve seen so much bad shit from blacks I can never buy the Liberal line either. The most racist view of blacks is the Liberal one, that they have no agency—and people don’t even get that. The ability to think critically has vanished and there’s no bringing it back. I’ve always been obsessed with the Sixty-eight riots that destroyed the Baltimore the old people told me about. I actually scored a number of “interviews” conversations in cabs and kitchens, with old black dudes who saw it, who told me that a large number of the rioters were not Baltimorean.
“I had a plan to travel, to Europe, back to Asia. A school teacher once gave me an old National Geographic on Thailand and ever since I’ve been enchanted by the idea of being there. And living there, basically on a beach, for two dollars a day is hard to resist. Then I met Kyla and decided I couldn’t leave her there, in Baltimore—are you fucking kidding me! I’ll tell you about the drug dealer neighbors, the cop robbery and all the other craziness some other time.
“So we bought a house here [a small Pennsylvania town] and here it comes—it’s not Baltimore—but we have Dindus being bussed in from New York and Philly—shooting each other, committing home invasions. But it’s nothing compared to Baltimore. I have friends who got stuck in Baltimore, somehow suckered into ‘buying’ a house. At least in Baltimore, with the ‘ground rent’ it helps dispel the illusion that you can ever really own a home in this country. As soon as most the people in a neighborhood pay off their houses, someone comes up with a method to drive them out so that money can start being made again.
“The saving grace of Pennsylvania is gun ownership. The sheriff here recommended to me that I should apply for a concealed carry permit. It was quicker than getting a drivers license. My dream is to move even farther away from places like Baltimore. I’ve been attacked by Dindus and cops too many times to ever move back to that place. By the way, I know from reliable sources that numerous Baltimore City cops are being hired to work in small Pennsylvania towns. If you ever feel the need to get away for a weekend to write or just relax you can use the office and the spare bedroom. You’ve been subject to stress hormones for decades now living in that place—and I don’t mean to sound like some hippie—but that shit takes its toll. If you need a break, just let me know.”
-Nero the Pict
When Your Job Sucks
"...I’ve just known too many blacks who were good people, to buy the line that they’re all bad. And I’ve seen so much bad shit from blacks I can never buy the Liberal line either..."
I the evil, White Nationalist, horrible person that I am believe this too. There's only one problem with engaging with Negros in any way. The numbers of Blacks that are bad is so stupendously high compared to Whites...why bother? They have nothing to offer me. Nothing. If all the Blacks good and bad magically disappeared overnight the US would be an almost magically better place to live. White people should stop pretending that Black people offer any value to our lives because they don't. Any small, minuscule amount they do offer, and I can't even think of what that might be, is heavily out weighed by the bad.
The Yugoslavian comparison shouldn't be ignored and is apt.