The Scum
Somewhere there are squads of dope-crazed savages combing through mounds of rubble, selecting razor edged cudgels to crush your skull the next time you’re desperate or foolish enough to venture into their darkness. Down the street—in that shiny new federal office complex—there are covens of sniveling bureaucrats poring over volumes of forgotten laws, looking for some metalegal reason for vaporizing your weapons in a government blast furnace.
--U.S.A: The Urban Survival Arsenal
…But it’s going to be a tough fight, considering the titanic, suffusive brain-washing machine known as the LIBERAL MEDIA. A bunch of tree-hugging, dope-shooting, meat-shunning, whale-protecting, anus-invading, ivory-tower fruit flies those reporters are, I’ll tell ya. They pump their poisonous vomit out through radio speakers, TV screens, and newspapers, favoring slimy penises over clean rifles, crack-puffing rapists over gunfolk.
It’s the news media, say the gunfolk, who’ve engendered sympathy for the looters, dopers, gangsters, scumbags, perverts, hoodlums, arsonists, marauders, pillagers, madmen, killers, animals, muggers, burglars, wackos, malefactors, villains, hooligans, thugs, ruffians, goons, hellcats, cannibals, vandals, barbarians, fiends, vampires, roustabouts, and desperadoes who now roam our streets with impunity. Look!! Somebody got shot in a stickup! Here come the paramedics! Hurry!! Help that guy! No, not the victim, stupid—the gunman! His pistol recoiled so hard, he has a boo-boo on his hand!
According to the gunfolk, the media lackeys aid the government to ensure that THE CONSPIRACY succeeds with out a hitch. And, dag nabbit, is it ever succeeding! Irresponsibility is now considered a virtue. Decadence is looked upon as cute. Welfare is seen as a birthright. The murkiest excrescences of primordial slime are touted as high culture. The maggots have arrived.
And they’re dining on whitey’s corpse. Now, not all gunfolk are white racists, but not all pro basketball players are tall black guys, either. Indeed, gunfolk are an overwhelmingly Caucasian lot: If a 2005 poll is to be trusted, melanin-deficient households are fifty-four percent more likely to contain a gun than those of the so-called “Mud People.” Gunfolk see European civilization as the primary target of the Conspiracy’s “racial-socialist.” Western thought, Western customs, even Western skin color are thought to be jeopardized in a global scheme to puree humanity into a grey bowl of raceless oatmeal.
Pro-gun bigotry’s apex is found in Andrew Mac Donald’s The Turner Diaries, a withering, paranoid, horribly written novel which the FBI has called “the bible of the racist right.” It dares to ask firearms owners’ favorite question: “What will you do when they come to take you guns?” The book opens with governmental gun raids which trigger a guerrilla war against “Zionist” overlords, resulting in a holocaust of nonwhites and a new era spearheaded by rifle-totin’ palefaces. First-person protagonist Earl Turner starts out having his apartment searched and ends up dropping a bomb on the Pentagon. The plot is laughably contrived in the manner of a schoolboy playing with plastic soldiers: Turner escapes death with the ridiculous improbability of an action-movie hero until he’s blown to Aryan smithereens in his kamikaze mission. What begins as a loose-knit paramilitary posse grows into an earth-governing, snow white, quasi-Druidic inner sanctum known as The Order. Hitler is referred to as “The Great One,” and genocide of the nonwhites is called “sterilization.” The entire planet eventually becomes white, although certain sectors of Asia remain too radioactive for habitation. Characters are flatter than paper targets. Nevertheless, The Turner Diaries would seem to invigorate any reader who pines for a White Jerusalem.
Here at the gun show, there’s no dearth of pro-white white folk. The only black person in sight, a muscle-laden male in a US Marines shirt, trudges about uncomfortably, and it’s hard to blame him: Uncle Adolf is everywhere. There’s an affinity for Hitler bordering on kink, with more German militaria being sold than American stuff. Pair of wrestler-sized bikers conspicuously clomps around one garbed in a DAVID DUKE FOR PRESIDENT T-shirt, the other wearing a turquoise ring with a swastika inset. Glowering at merchandise, a skinhead wears a shirt with a slogan HAIL VICTORY! above a Nazi flag. Sporting a disciplined little moustache, one vendor deals strictly Teutonic wares, including the infamous JUDE patch which Jews were forced to don under the Third Reich.
And then there’s Dieter, a Prussian-product-pusher par excellence. Besides the standard swastika flags and armbands, he sells swastika patio lamps, Triumph of the Will and Afrika Corps videos, and SS jackets in “full Gestapo leather” for twenty-five hundred smackers. Dieter came to the US from Germany as a teenager in 1958. He has an amiable glint in his eye and a belly undoubtedly cultivated from one too many Oktoberfests. I ask him if he catches any static for selling Nazi souvenirs, and it takes him about three seconds to start making racial slurs: “No. I just tell them to get away. They’re mostly Jews. I thought people were so open-minded. Only when it comes to their stuff, like communism.”
His blonde wife demonstrates a black-velvet choker with a rhinestone swastika sewn into the front. Three hundred and fifty bucks. “Dat was for the super-rich,” she boasts, “and dey had the clothes to go vit it!”
Dieter claims he’d be jailed back in Germany for hawking Hitleria. He says he has no urge to return to the Vaterland. “They’re having a lot of problems. About forty percent unemployment. No wonder the young people get mad—they don’t have a chance to get a job. They’re bringing in all the Schwarzes and all the Gypsies and all the Asiatics—same as over here, you know? It’s something that is internationally desired by certain people, you know, to mix everybody up….[The immigrants into Germany] get paid fifteen hundred a month, and they don’t have to work for two years. All the young German kids are mad—they don’t have a chance, because the welfare system is so over-bloated. It’s turning into America over there. They come in from Africa with eighteen kids.”
Trebly German marching songs tootles from a peewee boom box. “This country is going down the tubes,” Dieter dictates, “especially in California. There are no borders there. They’re letting in the Mexicans, The Central Americans—a white couple like you won’t have a chance…Between the blacks and the Mexicans, they’re gong to burn everything from San Francisco down to San Diego. If you can’t see the handwriting on the wall, you must be on drugs.”
Certain that it will rile him enough to spit out another venom-filled quote, I ask Dieter if he’s ever visited the Big Apple. “You want to break my nerves,” comes his retort, “put me in New York city for ten minutes. I mean Jew York City. You can look at somebody there, and they’ll have four races in them—black, white, Jewish, Oriental—you don’t know what they are. Hell is better than New York City. And they want us to mix. They want the Germans, the Scandinavians, to mix with those people. In another generation, the whole country will be like New York City. There will be bloody, bloody riots and counter-riots. You won’t need an earthquake to set it off. It could be a change in the weather; whatever…The best thing you can do right now is buy beans and bullets.”.......
More to come........



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