This marks the passing of one year since the Victory.
If tomorrow all the things were gone
I’d worked for all my life
And I had to start again
With just my children and my wife
When your woman stands by you through better or worse, setbacks aren’t life-wreckers and that’s the spirit of Lee Greenwood’s first verse. A friend of mine suffered a permanent injury yet his wife adores him, putting to shame today’s wives for their attitude toward their able-bodied husbands. Solid character sustains you in a tough time. The good news is that American women are among the best in the world. For one, they stood by their men and voted for Donald Trump.
“[If] I were asked, now that I am drawing to the close of this work, in which I have spoken of so many important things done by the Americans, to what the singular prosperity and growing strength of that people ought mainly to be attributed, I should reply: To the superiority of their women.” — Alexis de Tocqueville (1831)
Of course I know about the problems with modern American women. Yes, many of them are damaged, but so are many of us. Everyone has been subjected to malign pressures and incentives. Yet all considered, American women have acquitted themselves fairly. It’s as though many of them don’t want to become what they’re encouraged to be. What I’m saying is, they lack nothing in raw beauty and mettle. Just know where to look, start having children young, and wear the pants.
All women need the guiding hand of patriarchy. They say that “White Sharia Rape Gangs” polls better than “Family Values” but before we get to where we are free to assert corporal dominion, follow the fundamentals of raising a girl in a hostile culture because when she turns fourteen, she will decide what kind of a girl she’s going to be.
I’d thank my lucky stars
To be living here today
I thank my lucky stars every day for President Trump, for the freedom to blog at one degree of anonymity, for the 2nd Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, and for the men who died, who gave those rights to me.
’cause the flag still stands for freedom
And they can’t take that away
Well, they think they took that away. The American government has been in a territorial war against its people since 1954, a demographic war since 1965, a cultural war since President Reagan’s departure, a lock-down police state since 2001, and it has been openly genocidal of Whites since Obama’s reelection. The result: an engineered population replacement and decades of paying for “white privilege.” A White Nationalist rapper describes this privilege:
White America, we built this nation from scratch
White America, then the Jews gave it to Blacks
White America, they put us in unpayable debt
But our children won’t be slaves. No, we’re taking it back.
But rather than calibrating when victory is in sight, they always make their fatal error: they get pig-arrogant. Instead of easing the RPMs on poz when things go their way, they push the throttle. And so now, the U.S. national anthem is considered racist.
As it should be, because we can play that game to its resolution. So along with the Star Spangled Banner, the American flag is racist. As is the bald eagle, the Iwo Jima photo, 4th of July fireworks, the cowboy, the covered wagon, “Don’t Tread On Me,” Mount Rushmore, and all of other examples of American iconography. Those things belong to a specific nation, therefore by definition they are exclusionary. The anthem and the flag would mean nothing if they weren’t “racist.”
Onward with further disentanglement of plain truth from the pretty lies that they insisted on pushing ahead with, while we were willing, to a point, to go with the Proposition Nation lie. One, blacks aren’t Americans. There is no spite in that statement. It’s an objective fact of ancestry, no less so than saying that Chechens aren’t Russians. Two, Jews aren’t Americans. “Let my people go!” – Moses. “Let my people in!” – some kike who didn’t get into a country club. Three, “nation of immigrants” is fiction.
From the lakes of Minnesota
To the hills of Tennessee
Across the plains of Texas
From sea to shining sea
This is a beautiful land. I’ve never been to Minnesota but I know the hills of Tennessee and the plains of Texas. I’ve made long drives in my twenties over the unforgettable landscapes, including a cross-continental one during the mid-1990s. My then-girlfriend’s family in a southwestern state invited us to visit. With our schedules, she only had enough time to fly there for a couple of days while I had more time at my disposal so I drove solo, timing my arrival at her parents’ house with her arrival by plane. I also worked in several days of back-roads sightseeing on the way.
Her father was a retired military officer and a Vietnam war vet. The real deal: combat kills, survivor of an ambush-massacre. She handed me the phone as we planned the trip. His tone was stern but he asked me for a favor. He described the location of a cemetery in a small town in Oklahoma where his parents and a friend who died in Vietnam are buried, asking if I could drive into that town and tell him what shape their graves are in. “Of course,” I told him. When I described my planned back-roads route, he named a town in Texas and said: “Fill up when you get there. You won’t see another gas station for the next 100 miles.”
After two days of driving alone, you start talking to yourself. After three days, you struggle with enunciating words to a convenience store attendant. I stopped in that Oklahoma town, bought three bouquets of flowers, followed my written directions to find the cemetery and locate the graves (this was before the internet), and found them. I laid the flowers, prayed “Eternal Rest” over each grave, and took some photos. Then I found a commercial area in town, where a one-hour photo store developed my film.
You don’t know the plains of Texas until the lonesome feeling hits you upon realizing that you have not seen a single car over the past hour of driving. It felt like freedom.
After the excitement of meeting my girlfriend’s family, the unpacking, unwinding, and dinner, her father motioned for me to follow him to the back deck. The two of us sat down with a cooler of Coronas between us and lit our cigarettes. The long, relaxed conversation I had with that man was one of my most satisfying. We talked about everything as the hours went by, watching the sun go down over the desert and the stars take over the sky.
And on with Greenwood’s song:
From Detroit down to Houston,
And New York to L.A
Detroit was a jewel. Americans had spend the past six decades in the strange position of being, nominally and numerically, the defining racial group of the United States while being effectively barred from living in her cities. Instead, they were dispersed throughout refugee camps known as suburbs, secure on that turf at least until the next inbound moving van spurs them to once again run after “good schools.” Who the fuck lives like this.
The imperative to clear the continent for the second time, the opportunity to decentralize and reanimate the spirit of localism that the Founding Fathers envisioned… America, the place where you dream big.
Well there’s pride in every American heart
And it’s time we stand and say…
Yes, it’s time.
That I’m proud to be an American
Where at least I know I’m free
And I won’t forget the men who died
Who gave that right to me
Americans’ generosity was turned against them. Human beings are thinking creatures, but we also have instincts, the purpose of which is to remind us that the serpent is subtle. Always trust your gut. It will infallibly tell your brain that the stranger’s whisper is in fact a hiss.
“God bless the USA” in the song’s refrain isn’t some empty phrase for the occasion like “jingle bells.” Those words mean something. Namely, that without God this isn’t a country; it’s the enforcement arm of global usury. What happened one year ago makes you wonder. I’ve seen a doubting man allow for the possibility that Donald Trump is guided by God’s hand so that the nation may return to Christ and in doing so, that we make America great again.
And I gladly stand up
Next to you and defend her still today
Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land
God bless the USA