“A Letter To Che”

I don’t get many of the allusions, but it’s fair to say that the song is about people who blindly follow fashion and revolutionary ideologies. It came out around the time of George W. Bush’s invasion of Iraq, so there is that as well. “A Letter to Che” (orig. List Do Che) by the band Strachy Na Lachy is musically in the style of tango.


Celują mi prosto w serce / They’re aiming straight at my heart
Dziś kupców jest dyktatura / Today’s dictatorship of merchants
Oni mierzą do mnie jak do szczura / They aim at me like at a rat 
Tych złotych Czterdzieści i Cztery / Those golden Forty Four
Kod z kresek na parabelce / A code of notches on the pistol
Zwymiotowało moje serce / My heart vomited
Taka dziwna przebija je gwiazda [x2] / Such a strange star pierces it

Hej ty i cała twoja wiara / Hey you and your comrades
Zastyga krew na transparentach / The blood on the banners dries
Ja pamiętam cię tylko ze zdjęcia / I remember you only from a photo
Komendancie Che Guevara / Commandant Che Guevara

Mijałem targ na sygnale / I passed the market on lights and siren
Twarz twoją widziałem wspaniale / Saw your face clearly
Tam gdzie kurwy grzyby i krasnale / Among whores mushrooms and dwarves
Na szklankach i na firankach / And on knick-knacks

Aż tu pewnego poranka / Until one morning
SMS z okolic piekła: / A text message from hell:
“Czerń dzisiaj głodna i wściekła” / “Hungry and vicious is darkness today”
Tak napisała Zetkin Clara / So wrote Clara Zetkin

[Refrain x2]

Roll call of Cuban political prisoners c. 2003:
Raúl Oliverio Castañeda
Alejandro González Raga
Margarito Broche Espinosa
Fabio Prieto Llorente
Osvaldo Acosta

Zawalił się kapitalizm / Capitalism collapsed
Światu but na nodze już się zapalił / The world’s feet are on fire
W Gawroszewie robią bomby w barach / They make bombs in bars
I palą hawańskie cygara / And smoke Havana cigars


Znów modna jest broda Jezusa / The Jesus beard is back in style
Na widokówkach z Nablusa / On postcards from Nablus
I znów odbiera wojsk paradę / And the military parade
Osama Bin Checko-Laden / Is reviewed by Osama Bin Chekho-Laden

A ja gdy z mego snu się zbudzę / And when I awake
Zaraz wam zdradzę to hasło: / I’ll reveal the slogan:
“Nie pozostanę wredną wszą / “I won’t be a wretched louse
W brodzie Fidela Castro” [verse x2] / In Fidel Castro’s beard”

[Latin music]

Ile ty chcesz za te szklankę [x4] / How much do you want for this glass

[Refrain x2]

Ile ty chcesz za te szklankę / How much do you want for this glass


“I shake like a spleen ripped out of an eel”

An older friend once explicated the llyrics of this 1981 anti-Communist song for me, connecting each verse with a historic circumstance. I wish I remembered more of his commentary. The only one I recall is that the “jug-ears of naïve confidants” refers to secret police.

The subject of “Witkacy’s Self-Portrait” (Autoportret Witkacego) is Stanisław Ignacy Witkiewicz (1885 – 1939), commonly known as Witkacy, a prolific artist and writer best known for his expressionistic paintings and eccentric persona. A biographical note about Witkacy, referring to his period of service as an officer in Russian imperial army:

Witkiewicz witnessed the Russian Revolution while stationing in St Petersburg. He claimed that he worked out his philosophical principles during an artillery barrage, and that when the Revolution broke out he was elected political commissar of his regiment. His later works would show his fear of social revolution and foreign invasion, often couched in absurdist language. — Infogalactic

Living in Poland in the 1930s, he fled toward the country’s eastern frontier when Germany invaded in 1939 and committed suicide seventeen days later when Soviet Union attacked from the east.

Translating songs or poems involves a tradeoff between three things: original intended meaning (word choice), meter, and rhyme. I always focus on the first. With meter, I aim to make it as close as possible to the original in terms of the syllable-count and scansion but I keep a soft touch there. A matching rhyme scheme between unrelated languages is too unlikely, and not worth doing at the cost of compromising the other two priorities.

The song taps into Witkacy’s style of absurdism. With a leap of faith, it is relevant now. The regular stanzas in the original have an AABA rhyme scheme. Roger Waters should perform my English translation:


Witkacy’s Self-Portrait

By habit I watch the world
So it’s not from narcotics
That my eyes are red
Like laboratory rabbits’

I just got up from the table
So it’s not from deprivation
That I have the clenched lips
Of hungry Mongols

I listen to sounds not words
So it’s not for fecund thought
That I have the jug-ears
Of naïve confidants

I sniff out the cutthroats
So it’s not for the sake of folklore
That my nose casts the shadow
Of aggrieved Semites

I see the shape of things in their essential form
And that makes me great and unrepeatable

Unlike you – ladies and gentlemen if you’ll forgive me –
Who are an idiot’s rhyme copied on a duplicator [line x 2]

My neck’s rather stiff
But I’m still alive
Because politics to me
Is dishwater in a crystal glass

My mind is hard like an elbow
So don’t kick me
Because the revolution to me
Is red fingernails

I’m as sensitive as a membrane
So by evening and morning
I shake like a spleen
Ripped out of an eel

I’m terrified of the apocalypse
So to calm my mood
I scream like a child
That’s locked in a dark room

I more than any of you choke and gag!
I more than any of you wish to stop living but can’t!

[The first person-singular pronoun above allows a primal scream in both languages: “aaaaaaaaiiii” in English and “yaaaaaaaah” in Polish. — PA]

But I won’t let anyone touch me and therefore
When necessary I’ll be the one
Who deprives the world of Witkacy


Lyrics: Jacek Kaczmarski. Music: Przemysław Gintrowski

An American Nationalist Visits Warsaw

Occidental Observer contributor Adam Komiaga attends this past November’s Independence Day rally in Warsaw and describes his experience.

The 60,000-strong march, known for its participants’ aggressively patriotic posture and its umbrella slogan “We Want God” was attended by nationalists from all over Europe. The author of the article stayed in an apartment with Swedes who, like him, flew to Warsaw to join the march. He makes a number of street-level observations, starting with an encounter with a belligerent Pole:

But we’re almost forehead to forehead now. I lock eyes, my deep-blue squared against his ice-blue. It gets tense.

Our group keeps moving around him though, and like white water flowing around a jutting stone in the river we slide around him on both sides. As I side-step him, I lower my eyes because eye-contact that lasts a millisecond too long usually leads to a fight. Anglos and other Western Europeans rarely experience this sort of thing. Growing up in the comfortable and loving leafy embrace of Suburbia makes you soft. But spend some time in Eastern Europe and you learn the rules about eye-contact etiquette quick enough.

The guy is a good writer. That description of the anatomy of eye contact was well done. You can relate to this in the United States. With our diversity and police-secured general order, most of our public space outside of non-White enclaves is no-man’s-land. When I pass a homie or a cholo, my posture and eyes communicate a message. I look at him, sort of through him. A blank fearless face. Mastery, not aggression. “No disrespect but it’ll cost you if you try something.” They always drop their eyes. Fights can result in organ damage or death (yours or his) so the point is neither to bait nor to submit, the latter serving to embolden them tomorrow, but to claim absolute dominion over your personal space and leave the question of public space ownership, at minimum, open for the time being.

The American visitor comments on various fights he saw break out:

… we participated in the massive, 60 thousand strong nationalist march through Warsaw. Just like the night before, there were sporadic fights breaking out all along the route among rival football clubs and rival nationalist organizations.

Poles against Poles. Whites against Whites.

There are different levels of identity. Right wing factions and football fans brawling, ethnic and national rivalry, on up to our ideal of racial solidarity against the mudworld. There is racial solidarity. It happens in emergencies, such as at the Superdome in 2005 when local Whites and stranded European tourists created a security perimeter in an arena full of blacks. Or Vienna in 1683. There are also long-standing friendships, such as between Poland and Hungary. The mere fact of Polish national holiday celebrants welcoming fellow-European nationalists and chanting Christian, pro-White and anti-Islamic slogans means a great deal. There is your racial solidarity.

(A long aside: Europeans are a war-race. But we temper our violence with Christian honor, which we extend to and expect of our fellow-Whites and which is why unlike savages, we develop codes such as the Geneva Convention, mercy with submission, distinction between combatant and civilian, and recognizing the enemy’s individual gallantry. Raping girls is not something we brag about. Waffen SS was the world’s most fearsome military corps but the reason naahzees have a radioactive reputation isn’t just post-war Jewish propaganda, though that is a big part of it. German Ostplan campaigns in WWII broke with civilized norms through their brutal behavior in Eastern Europe. Oskar Dirlewanger’s counterinsurgency units, as one example, are responsible for murdering up to 120,000 civilians in 200 villages throughout Belarus alone, his favorite method being to herd people into a barn, then setting the barn on fire.

Likewise, Allies’ barbarity toward German civilians in 1945 is a stain on our honor. My grandfather was a brilliant, severe-faced man of aristocratic Kresy tradition. He served as a lieutenant with First Polish Army under Soviet command and told me about his infantry unit entering a village in Pomerania. He saw a Russian soldier grappling with a German girl and ordered him to let her go. There were discipline problems on that front, with Russian soldiers disobeying Polish officers. My grandfather put a gun to the Russian’s head and the girl ran away. End aside.)

Men are small-group tribal. We’re supposed to be territorial and ready to fight. That’s freedom. That’s what keeps us sharp. It teaches us to be polite. It keeps women loyal. How many of us had spent our youth in middle class comfort, never having a redneck square up to us at a mall? Or if you’re a redneck, a locking of horns with a cocky frat dude or a loudmouth off-duty soldier from the local Army base. Racial solidarity entails collective effort in an emergency. “No more brother wars” doesn’t mean kumbaya.

Someone once commented ruefully that Europeans have culturally blended into an undifferentiated pop monoculture, so national distinctions are anachronistic. I disagree with that, countering with my own observation that if I’m talking with a Norwegian, it’s just two guys having a conversation. But if it’s five Norwegians and me, or five of my countrymen and him, the odd-man-out quickly notices that one is not like the others. If you are American but not a Southerner or a Mormon, get together with them and discover that culture is real.

An illustration of European diversity comes when the author got separated his from his Swedish companions and joined up with a Dutch group, observing a change in vibe:

I lost track of the Swedish Nationalists I had come with and ended up marching with the Dutch Identitarians instead. To be honest, it was a welcome change of pace. All of a sudden, I was around a different kind of European. They could crack jokes, include me in the conversation and seemed to actually want to practice some of that pan-European solidarity I had heard so much about.

Turning his attention to the landscape: Warsaw is an ugly city, he reports. Indeed, anybody who is not from there will enthusiastically agree with that sentiment. Not me, though. I’m a true Warszawiak, it seems, as either because of childhood nostalgia or for some other reason, I find the city to be quite lovely. My indelible feeling of home is Warsaw in any given December, where it’s dark at 4:00 PM and snow is falling, the smell of bus exhaust in the icy air bringing back memories. Perhaps Warsaw is meant to be grim, a reminder of history’s bloody relapses. That’s her burden still, as Europe heads into a war.

Yet, that’s the city where globalism is considered dead, the only city in the world where Christendom’s nationalists are free to march. That’s Warsaw’s terrible beauty:

The sky was overcast and it got dark quick, but the harsh red glare from the flares lit up everyone and everything with a kind of sepulchral glow. The smell of the burning chemicals washed over me and I breathed it all in, like the mystical smoke from some pagan witch ceremony or something. The flares seemed to have a powerful, almost reverent effect on everybody in the march.

The article segues to its most interesting part, a meditation on a new generation of Europeans. A seventeen-year-old Polish skinhead joins his group. He’s part of a disciplined paramilitary unit:

I saw them at the march the other day. They came in like a war-machine, ranked up in a Roman-style Testudo formation, with their banners wrapped all the way around the group like a shield wall. Black suns and Celtic crosses were flying proudly behind the first ranks — these guys were the real deal. Protecting the flanks of the column were black-clad young men with their faces totally covered in black ski masks. Turns out our young friend was one of them.

Older Poles would run up, yell out abuse and some even tried to start fights. But the Black Bloc just kept marching in perfect discipline. Even the soccer hooligans didn’t dare touch them.

As the American visitor learns, the teenager lives in Sweden where he goes to school as the sole White kid in his class, having been previously expelled from a majority-White private school. In the young man’s words:

“You know, before I was even a nationalist, I had problems at the private school. The Swedes are worse than the Arabs and Blacks. They would complain about me and report me all the time. Always behind my back, never to my face. Poles are naturally too nationalistic for them, I guess. I like it better in my new school.”

Turns out that the Arabs and Blacks respect him ever since he became a Neo-Nazi.

“Every time I do this…” he throws up the roman salute, “they fear me.”

The author gets to Nazi iconography, dispensing with dead history. Again, he has a way with graphic description:

Nazi imagery may not be good at convincing shy huWhytes to join the Identitarian cause, but its ability to strike fear into the hearts of non-Whites is second to none. To them, we’re all just a blend of Crusader-Nazi-White Devils who’ve gone soft. They stiffen with fear when they see that black spider on a field of red and white and see the gangs of young White hooligans that fly it.

As the age-heavy racial demographics shift in parts of Europe with the passing of Boomers (good riddance, anti-racist dead weight), it’s the White teenagers and kids who are inheriting their countries in their infested condition and who will have to reconquer Europe to have a chance to live in peace — to extend Western Civilization’s life, if you want to use such lofty words. Maybe they’ll wait for winter and cut off invaders’ heat. If they are merciful, they’ll let them go back to their ancestral shitholes but either way, nurseries will be reclaimed.

But [the young skinhead] is a good enough kid. Normal, sane and if I’m honest, he’s probably the future of the Post-First World. Generation “Zyklon” isn’t a meme. These kids are pissed. They are the first to feel what it is like to be in the White minority… and many of them don’t like it.

They will also have brothers and sisters, as White births are rebounding.



“Europe, Wake Up!” 2017 Independence Day March in Warsaw


We are united by the words on that banner: “We Want God.”

Tens of thousands of people marched across downtown Warsaw today in an Independence Day procession organized by Poland’s nationalist youth movement. Last year’s march was estimated at 50,000 strong. This year, patriots from Hungary, Slovakia, and even Spain have joined.

A national event catches the attention of spectators outside of its borders when, despite that event’s particularist nature, it speaks to the aspirations of people worldwide. Poland represents an alternative. Imagine your cities and countryside not being the world’s human dumpster. Imagine no concrete barriers and storm troopers having to guard your Christmas markets. Imagine the people and the law being on the same side.

Poland shows the world that it is possible for everyone to have the same in his own country. And that assertion of a people’s exclusive claim on their public space is why Westerners today turns their eyes eastward.

Avowing The Particular

The avowal of Poland’s national identity, an exclusionary claim, was expressed in this portion of the march:

At 0:30, the march participants chant: “Faithful Poland! is our goal!” After that, an off-camera speaker (who I think is the young priest that gave the rousing speech at last year’s rally) addresses the marchers, speaking solely to his countrymen. He says:

Brothers and sisters, thanks to whom do we have an independent Poland?

Thanks to whom do we speak Polish?

Thanks to whom do we have a Polish mother and a Polish father?

So let’s remember, thanks to whom do we have these things? Armia Krajowa! [fighters in the 1944 Warsaw Uprising]. Long live Armia Krajowa!

At 1:05, the camera cuts to the singing of the national anthem. The anthem, the salute to national heroes, the affirmation of only one nation’s heritage and ancestry, on down to calling out their clean bloodlines, are by definition exclusionary and without that proprietorship, they would have no meaning.

Affirming The Universal

History has a sense of humor. European workers are finally united, just not in the way that Karl Marx had envisioned. Humor aside, White countries are under siege and everyone knows what happens if we lose this war. Our graves and monuments will be torn down and our people wiped away forever from this world.

The demonstrators know this, which is why despite this being a Polish holiday, they unfurled a giant banner that bore an English language inscription: “Europe, Wake Up!”





Heroic Hymns

Archaeology is something that ends up on a museum shelf. In contrast, history is a living part of the human organism. It lies dormant until the smell of death trips an alarm. Take a look at various early/mid-20th century German, Polish, and Russian marching hymns “then” (with partial lyrics), along with a contemporary performance “now.”


THEN: Horst Wessel Lied was the national anthem of Germany from 1933 to 1945. Its writer Horst Wessel was marked for death by Communists over his Weimar-era street fights, his face and address featured on posters with slogans “strike the fascists wherever you find them.”

Raise the flag! The ranks tightly closed!
The SA marches with calm, steady step
Comrades shot by the Red Front and reactionaries
March in spirit within our ranks.

Clear the streets for the brown battalions,
Clear the streets for the stormtroopers
Millions are looking upon the swastika full of hope,
The day of freedom and of bread dawns!

NOW: “Wir sind das Volk” (We are the People) came to prominence during 1989 protests against East German government. Now Germany stands at the threshold of heroic possibilities. They have a lot to lose by speaking up and taking to the streets under their present government, but even more to lose by remaining silent.

You’re up there, you cowardly figures
Paid by the enemy, mocked by the people
But once more there will be justice
The people will try you, God’s mercy upon you!

We have been silent for too long
Were much too quiet
After decades of silence
It’s time once more to take the streets!


THEN: The March of the First Brigade. It was an anthem of the Polish Legions formed during World War I by Józef Piłsudski and is an emblem of the early-20th century struggle for independence.

The Legions — a soldier’s melody
The Legions — a sacrificial pyre
The Legions — a soldier’s gall
The Legions — a dead man’s fate

We, the First Brigade, a team of riflemen
We’ve thrown down the gauntlet
And our lives to the bonfire!

They cried that we had gone stark mad
Not believing us, that there’s a way!
Bereft of all, we’ve shed blood
With our dear leader at our side!

For the sake of posterity,
We’ll devote the rest of our days,
To sow honor ‘mid duplicity
Heedless both to blame and praise.

NOW: Written in 1908, Rota (The Oath) became popular across partitioned Poland, its lyrics defiant of the forced Germanization of children of the time. In the video below, it is played and sang during the November 2016 Independence Day march in Warsaw.

We won’t forsake our fathers’ land
We won’t let our speech be buried
We are the Polish nation
From the royal line of Piast
We won’t let the enemy oppress us

So help us God!
So help us God!


THEN: USSR National Anthem. Composed in 1930, it replaced “The Internationale” as the national anthem to boost the morale of Soviet forces during WWII.

Unbreakable union of freeborn Republics
Great Russia has welded forever to stand
Created in struggle by will of the people
The united and mighty, our Soviet Union!

Be glorified our Soviet fatherland, united and free
Built by the people’s mighty hand (in 1944 version)
Fortress, in brotherhood strong
The party of Lenin, the strength of the people

To Communism’s triumph lead us on!

Through tempests the sunlight of freedom shined
And the great Lenin lighted us the way
He raised the people to the righteous cause

Inspired us to labor and to valorous deed.

NOW: As performed by Russian armed forces during the 2016 Victory Day parade, presided over by Vladimir Putin.


The Moral Right To Say “No”

We have not exploited the countries from which these refugees are coming to Europe these days, we have not used their labour force and finally we have not invited them to Europe. We have a full moral right to say No.

From last week’s speech by Jarosław Kaczyński, chairman of Poland’s ruling Law and Justice party. Each nation’s circumstances are different. In Poland’s case, Kaczyński is absolutely right: there is no basis, in a liberal moral system, to hold Poland and several other European nations accountable for their past entanglements with third world peoples.

Does this mean that countries that did have colonies and had invited non-European labor into their homes are morally obligated to take in immigrants? Of course, not. That’s because the liberal moral system is not a legitimate guide for Western nations — it is alien and opportunistic rather than traditional and idealistic.

However, attention to the liberal moral system is indicated because its protean premises and logic are necessary, at the present, to validate any political act undertaken by a Western nation. Whites have always derived legitimacy of action from the alignment of their motives with universal morality; that, in my view, is innate to us and this is why we are seen as the only race that possesses moral agency.

Our universalist thinking predates Christianity, whose tenets, from a secular point of view, are aligned with our a-priori impulses. The modus operandi of Leftism was to subvert our relationship with Christian morality by keeping its language but replacing its spirit with their own unclean breath. The Cultural Marxist usurpation is not historically unique in that regard, except that has turned our own nature against us on an unprecedentedly self-destructive scale.

Kaczyński’s above-quoted words parry one Marxist argument (“Europe must take in refugees because racist debts”) with another (“Poland has no such debts”). His speech effectively rebuffs false-premise dialectic on its own terms.

Every mainstream populist leader in Europe understands that, at the moment, his public address is constrained by the captivity of the Western mind — the West’s voters and national institutions — to the false morality of Marxism. This is also why Viktor Orbán’s speeches include appeals to liberal values such as tolerance and female equality. To win, you play the game by its present rules, until your audience is ready for you to discard present rules.

A genuine Western moral system — as codified by Christian doctrine and in harmony with natural law — was never killed by Jewish Marxism, and never will be as long as we live. Our legitimate morality is submerged under impostor-morality. Listen to your own mute voice and hear your own thoughts:

Even the lowest bug fights to live.

Thou shalt not kill, another or yourself for illegitimate reasons. In other words, no nation is obligated to snuff out her own posterity. Yet this is being enthusiastically carried out, not only in the case of Western Europe’s post-war waves of immigration, but in an even more influential example — the United States and her blacks. From the standpoint of liberal morality, the case for absolute black equality is incontrovertible: slavery and segregation were sins to be atoned for, with damage to be ameliorated. So Americans did that… and created a low-grade beast that begs to be put down.

Language, no less so the moral language behind the hissing for White Genocide, is “words, words, words,” per Shakespeare. And so are any retorts on the political stage. But the soil from which the words spring — either as cultivated roses or as poison ivy — is real. It is time to eradicate (to pull up by the roots) the false morality of Marxism and let legitimate European morality again flourish so we affirm that our nations have the full moral right to say “No” to being replaced, and then to act in accordance with this imperative to live and not die.

To independence!



“Europe, Rise From Your Knees!”

That’s a line delivered by Poland’s prime minister Beata Szydło in a speech to her country’s Parliament last Wednesday:

We are not going to take part in the madness of the Brussels elite. We want to help people, not the political elites.

Where are you headed Europe? Rise from your knees and from your lethargy or you will be crying over your children every day.

If you can’t see this – if you can’t see that terrorism currently has the potential to hurt every country in Europe, and you think that Poland should not defend itself, you are going hand in hand with those who point this weapon against Europe, against all of us. It needs to be said clearly and directly: This is an attack on Europe, on our culture, on our traditions.

Do we want politicians who claim we have to get used to the attacks, and who describe terrorist attacks as “incidents,” or do we want strong politicians who can see the danger and can fight against it efficiently?

That phrase about culture and traditions is a softball, and as far as all mainstream right-wing European leaders will rhetorically go. But soon enough they or their successors will be talking about our nation, our race, our blood. Why shouldn’t they?

“Europe, rise from your knees.” What does that mean? First, it means that you have a pair of eyes and a free mind, so use them. Wake up. Then, act like you’re in a war, because you are in one. It’s presently one-sided biological warfare in which the enemy’s objective is to breed you out of existence. Genetic-pollution Afroasian immigrants are their ground troops. The anti-White Kulturkampf in the media and schools is their air support. And you, the European man, woman and child anywhere in the world, are the city under siege.

This is not a tangent, but I’ve wondered before: was the 1944 Warsaw Uprising a mistake or a sacrifice with long-term recompense? The 63-day campaign wrested several districts of the capital from the enemy occupant. The Uprising ultimately failed and led to 85% of Warsaw getting razed, including her entire Old Town and all of the city’s landmarks of cultural significance. In addition to insurgent casualties, approximately 200,000 civilians were murdered by German regulars and their SS auxiliaries, who were brought in from as far as Azerbaijan. (German personnel losses included up to 9,000 est. killed, 7,000 missing, 9,000 wounded, and 2,000 captured).

The two-day Wola district massacre, in which 40,000 civilians were executed in house-to-house sweeps, was particularly grisly. From post-war court testimony of Mathias Schenck, a Wehrmacht sapper:

After the door of the building was blown off we saw a daycare-full of small children, around 500; all with small hands in the air. Even [SS-Oberführer Oskar] Dirlewanger’s own people called him a butcher; he ordered to kill them all. The shots were fired, but he requested his men to save the ammo and finish them off by rifle-butts and bayonets. Blood and brain matter flowed in streams down the stairs.

Dirlewanger was a pedophile. Schenck also testified to seeing Dirlewanger rape a girl while holding a knife, and then cutting her open along the entire length of her torso after ejaculating.

There are Oskar Dirlewangers at high levels of Western governments today. This is why my apparent tangent on the Warsaw Uprising is neither a tangent nor irrelevant. You have just seen a snapshot of what a total war of population-replacement looks like. This is what our leaders are planning for us.

Scratch that — they are already doing it. A dozen little English girls were just shredded at the Ariana Grande concert, and they tell you to remain passive as they kick in your door over angry Tweets. A thought experiment: how would a legitimate English government respond to a foreign national mass-murdering its children? Or to a wild African decapitating Lee Rigby in front of his barracks?

The English people, along with most Westerners, are not ruled by legitimate governments. They are ruled by criminals. As long as these Western people, in the privacy of their minds where there is no excuse for being a slave, consider their governments lawful and legitimate, they are kneeling before Oskar Dirlewanger. Getting off your knees would mean, first of all, that you open your eyes and see the evil that is staining your land.

What would be the next step in rising off your knees?

I don’t tell people to do anything I am not doing. But keep reading.

Despite its failure, the 1944 Warsaw Uprising will be famed for as long as sentient mankind lives. The lesson for posterity is that sometimes you have to fight because even if you are beaten, you will inspire your great-grandsons to never die on their knees.

Fabrizio Quattrocchi is more alive now than the walking-dead who shuffle through Western European capitals today:

[He] was hooded when the murderers put a gun to his head. “When his murderers were pointing a pistol at him, this man tried to take off his hood and shouted, ‘Now I’m going to show you how an Italian dies.’ And they killed him.”

Warsaw lost the Uprising but won the war, and she’s rebuilt and alive today.


Were all those 500 little children in Wola wasted, should the operation have been aborted? Seventy three years later, nationalists are laughing in the EU’s face. The wind at their backs is the spirit of those kids and of the fallen fighters.

So what do you do after you open your eyes? The answer: you lead, you follow, or you get out of the way. That last one is valuable too, as it makes you a passive supporter of those who act. The criminals and perverts embedded in the institutions of our ruling classes will double-down before they’re brought to trial and the imported aliens removed. It will either be clean, or it’s gonna get drawn out and ugly. There is no tenable center any more, you have to pick a side. There are action heroes and rising national movements. So lead something, or join the people who act in service to your nation. Support them; or at the very least, don’t stand in their way.

European, rise from your knees.


Image source, top: YouTube; above: Renegade Tribune