She curled up in the chair, stabbed and bleeding, her eyes wide, lips parted, hands clutching the wound. She looked to the faces around her and saw strangers, foreigners, and aliens, but no kin, no help, no pity; only the dull gaze of the mixed multitude shuffling past like

American democracy died on live camera, and from its grave rises something older, colder, armed, and ancient. The spirit of 1933 is rising, not to conquer, but to vindicate.

The messages I’m getting from very moderate, almost apolitical normie friends and relatives tells me that the combination of the Charlotte bus murder and the assassination of Charlie pushed us through a barrier of some kind. I’m talking hairdresser aunts who’ve never said a

You don’t have enemies because of your politics; you have politics because you have enemies. The political begins when you decide who must die. A nation is not an economy; it is a will to distinguish blood from poison.

We are the last living memory of a world already erased. The freedom they offered was slavery; the ruin they fear is the truth we carry.

We are not conservatives. We are not dissidents. We are the remnant: armed, ungovernable, awake in the grave of a country that hated us. The dream was murdered in broad daylight. The republic never existed. What remains is war.

We live in ruins, and we are ourselves a ruin, of a nation that no longer exists. But in that ruin, we remember who we are.

https://t.co/DB7urKgsWx

The last of us to believe in the American Dream have bled out on its altar. You will not vote your way out of ritual murder.

Going for a walk to clear my head.

José Calvo Sotelo A name from history that comes to mind.

Youre my boy but I respectfully disagree… everybody needs to watch this because it could have been you, it could have been me, it could have been any one of us exercising the first amendment You all need to know what our enemies want. They want this for all of us, they want

8814. A sign, not for the many, but for the few who remember. 88: The Solar Will, unyielding. 14: The sacred duty to those unborn. Together, a cipher of eternity; spoken not in the tongue of the rabble, but in the silent language of those who stood when all else fell.

NO MORE HALF MEASURES.

Democrats over on Reddit can barely contain their glee over the Charlie Kirk shooting. Animals.

Charlie Kirk shot. With that amount of blood loss it’s unlikely he’ll survive. Very Graphic

Remember the video of the 67 year old vet, affectionately nicknamed Epic Beard Man, beating the piss out of a black thug on an Oakland bus in 2010. Listen to the black women encourage him to attack the white guy. "Beat his white ass!" Then their tune quickly changes once the

She curled up in the chair, stabbed and bleeding, her eyes wide, lips parted, hands clutching the wound. She looked to the faces around her and saw strangers, foreigners, and aliens, but no kin, no help, no pity; only the dull gaze of the mixed multitude shuffling past like

One white girl dying, four savages in quasi-human semblance look away. No help. No kin. No mercy. This is what “diversity” means: surrounded, abandoned, replaced. Remember Iryna Zarutska.

Nothing esoteric about it. I’m not a Duginist. I’m a proud American, like Randy Weaver was when ZOG murdered his family. Keep your Eurasian mystics. I write in the tongue of men who remember Ruby Ridge and still believe in blood, land, and God.